The World Beyond
by bluemeanie11
Summary: AU: In his fifth year, Harry stumbles into a peaceful world where no one has heard of Voldemort. But something evil is lurking, and he may be the only one who can help...
1. Across the Barrier

Disclaimer: Obviously I own nothing here, I'm just writing this for fun. If I did own 'Harry Potter', I assure you someone else would've died at the end of book five.  
  
Anyway. Read. Enjoy. Review. Thanks.  
  
Chapter One: Across the Barrier  
  
Vernon Dursley glanced warily in his rear view mirror as he edged his car closer to the front entrance to King's Cross Station in London. Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter was squished into the back seat with his large trunk containing all of his belongings and one bulky cage containing his snowy white owl, Hedwig.   
  
A spot opened up on the curb as a red SUV merged back into traffic and Vernon seized the opportunity to pull his car into the space. As soon as the car had stopped moving, Harry reached for the handle and began to climb out of the car. He wasn't quick enough.  
  
"Hurry up, boy," Vernon snapped as Harry slipped out the door and hauled his trunk behind him. "I don't want anyone to see me here, what with your kind around today," Vernon spat the last few words as Harry pulled the owl cage out with him as well. As soon as Harry had pushed the door shut, Vernon was edging his car back onto the main road. Before Harry could even pull his belongings fully onto the curb, the car had disappeared completely in the midmorning traffic.  
  
"Of course," Harry muttered. "They'd assume you were associated with us. Because it's only wizards who use King's Cross. No one else could possibly be here." With a sigh, he grabbed the handle of his trunk, picked up the owl cage, and made his way over to get a cart to place his belongings on.  
  
As with every year, King's Cross Station was exceptionally busy on the morning of September 1st, but Harry knew exactly where he was going and could avoid the bother of having to ask a harried station employee for help. Luckily for him, the moment he stepped through the main entrance doors, he saw a mass of familiar people standing a few feet away from a newsstand.  
  
"Ron!" Harry called to his best friend as he pushed his trunk towards the mass of red haired people. The boy in question turned quickly and smiled as Harry came up to him.  
  
"Harry! Brilliant, you made it!" Ron Weasley congratulated as his mother scooped Harry into a protective hug.  
  
Finally, he was released from Molly Weasley's arms. He glanced at the group around him and was delighted to see one non-red head smiling at him: his other best friend, Hermione Granger. She, as with all of the younger Weasleys, had a cart in front of her and was hugging her cat, Crookshanks, in her arms. The cat looked like he was struggling to breathe in her tight grasp.  
  
"We were beginning to worry that you weren't coming, Harry," Hermione said. "We were supposed to meet twenty minutes ago."   
  
"Traffic," Harry muttered. "And Uncle Vernon won't drive a bit above the speed limit; he's afraid he might crash and put a dent in his precious car." Hermione laughed sympathetically as Mrs. Weasley looked down at her watch.  
  
"We'd better get moving to the platform now, kids," she began to usher them in the direction of their hidden platform. "Muggles everywhere, but that's too be expected, of course." A tall man in a business suit looked at her as though she were crazy at the unfamiliar word, but she smiled at him and herded the teenagers in front of her.  
  
Harry fell into step with Hermione and Ron as they pushed their carts through the crowded station. The other three Weasleys returning to Hogwarts formed a similar line in front of them; Muggles in the station couldn't help but give the group a wide berth as they made their way through.  
  
Many years of experience attending Hogwarts made the trip to Platform 9 and 3/4 an easy one and they soon arrived en masse at the barrier. Muggles went about their business, getting on and off of the trains arriving at both Platforms 9 and 10. Very few of them took any notice of the teenagers getting ready to disappear onto a platform none of them knew existed.  
  
"Fred, George, you two go first," Molly ordered. "And behave yourselves once you've gotten to the other side."  
  
Fred saluted her mockingly and stepped through the barrier. His twin followed close behind him and soon he, too, was gone. Once they were safely through, Molly turned to the girls.   
  
"You next, Hermione," she motioned toward the seemingly solid wall. Hermione stepped forward, her cart securely in front of her. A moment later, she was gone, as well.  
  
Molly motioned next for her youngest child and only daughter. Ginny waited for a moment as a Muggle woman pulled her two curious children onto the train about to depart from platform ten. Once the two sets of inquisitive eyes were safely out of the way, Ginny stepped forward and disappeared with her cart through the wall.  
  
Now it was Harry's turn.  
  
Molly seemed reluctant to let Harry go and gave him another quick hug before pushing him towards the barrier. Harry aligned his cart with the wall between platforms 9 and 10 and stepped forward. He approached the wall as normal, stepping confidently towards his destination, but just as he should have disappeared through the wall, something went wrong.  
  
Instead of slipping easily through the barrier, Harry bounced back. Hedwig squawked in protest as her cage was jostled. He looked confused at the wall and then turned to look at his friend behind him. "It's not going to be second year all over again is it..." but he stopped short when he noticed that Ron was no longer behind him, or anywhere on the Muggle platform, that he could see. Mrs. Weasley appeared to be gone as well. "Weird," Harry muttered. He stepped back from the barrier and looked around. Sure enough, the two Weasleys had vanished.  
  
Harry wasn't sure what to do as he looked back at the barrier. After a moment's deliberation, he decided his best bet would be to try again to get onto the platform.   
  
He paid no attention to the Muggles hurrying to meet their friends and relatives on platform 10 when the train arrived. The conductor had just announced that it would be there in five minutes.  
  
Harry realigned himself with the wall, checking as he did to see if Ron or Mrs. Weasley might have reappeared in the few seconds that had passed, but they hadn't. Growing more confused by the moment, he stepped forward again, expecting this time to bounce back. He didn't.  
  
Harry looked around, surprised to find himself on Platform 9 and 3/4. He turned in a full circle, taking in the whole platform and pausing for a moment to look at the wall behind him. Nothing looked out of place except for the fact that he didn't see the Weasleys or Hermione anywhere.  
  
"Strange," he whispered as he stepped further onto the platform and away from the barrier. "But where could they have gone?"  
  
A flash of red caught his eye. Unless his eyes were mistaking him, Ron Weasley was now standing over near the train's engine. "How did he get there?" Harry muttered, but pushed his cart in that direction and called his friend's name.  
  
The boy looked up upon hearing his name, but didn't seem to be able to locate the source of the voice. Harry called out to him again and this time Ron located Harry, who was hurrying as quickly toward him as he could push his cart.  
  
"Do I know you?"  
  
Harry stopped short at his friend's question. "I'm... Harry? How did you get in here?"  
  
Ron wrinkled his nose at Harry. "Through the barrier, same as anyone else. Who did you say you were?"  
  
"Harry. Harry Potter," he answered. There was still no recognition on the other boy's face. "Your friend, you know, the boy who lived, ring a bell?"  
  
"Obviously you've lived," another voice drawled from beside them. "But clearly not well enough to have decent clothes, even of the Muggle variety. I know their fashions are horrid, but really, they do make them in a wide range of sizes, you could have at least tried to find yours." Harry turned to look at the boy who had spoken; he was sure he had recognized the voice.   
  
He was right. Standing next to Ron was Draco Malfoy, his enemy since they first met. Both he and Ron were glaring at Harry who suddenly got the feeling that something far stranger than he had imagined before was going on.  
  
"I don't think I know you," Ron looked Harry up and down. "And I do tend to know everyone worth knowing around here. Comes from having your father be next in line for Minister of Magic."  
  
"Minister of Magic?" Harry spluttered. "Have you gone mad, Ron? Your dad hasn't been able to get himself promoted above a bottom level office because he loves Muggles too much!"  
  
Ron snorted disdainfully, "My father? Love Muggles? I think you're the one who's gone mad, whoever you are." He paused thoughtfully. "And Draco is quite right, you really ought to get better clothes. I daresay I hope your robes are in better condition than the filth you're wearing now."  
  
That was when Harry took a good look at Ron's clothes. He was wearing Muggle clothing, as was everyone else in the station, but he was dressed in the latest fashions and, Harry couldn't be sure, but the clothes looked like they probably carried a designer label.   
  
Harry stepped back in confusion, not sure of what to make of the situation in front of him.  
  
"There you two are!" Harry turned at the sound of another voice and saw a girl who looked quite a bit like Ginny Weasley approaching them. He did a double take as she walked over to Draco. This was no Ginny Weasley he had ever known. Like Ron, she was wearing brand new clothes and she looked a bit like one of the models in the magazines that his cousin Dudley had to hide from his parents.  
  
Just when he thought he couldn't be any more surprised, Harry got another shock. Ginny threw her arms around Draco and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Harry looked over to Ron and saw that the boy didn't seem to mind as Draco and Ginny continued to kiss.  
  
"Umm..." Harry mumbled, stumbling backwards. "I'll just be... I'll just go now, I think." He glanced warily over his shoulder at the three of them as he hurried away.  
  
Not paying attention to where he was going, Harry soon collided with someone else. Hurrying to pick himself up from the floor, Harry looked up to see Fred and George standing over him. Fred offered him a hand and soon he was back on his feet again. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to chance asking if they knew him, but didn't see how he had a choice.   
  
"You all right, mate?" Fred asked.  
  
Harry smiled, "Yes, fine. Just not paying attention, sorry."  
  
"Quite all right."  
  
The twins were not openly hostile to Harry, as Ron had been, and he noticed quickly that their clothes were in the same shabby, hand-me-down state they had been when he last saw them on the other side of the barrier. Harry felt his confidence returning. "I just ran into Ron over there. He was acting friendly with Draco Malfoy!"  
  
George looked questioningly at Harry, "Of course. Why wouldn't he be? I mean, you are talking about Ron Weasley, aren't you?"  
  
Harry nodded, confused again, "Of course I am, who else would I be talking about?" he paused for a moment, contemplating the other part of that statement. "And what do you mean, why wouldn't he be? The only person Draco Malfoy hates more than Ron is me. Or perhaps Hermione."  
  
Fred glanced at George and then turned back to Harry. "If you mean, Hermione Granger, I'll back you up on that. Malfoy certainly does hate her."  
  
"Loathe her, you mean," George interrupted.  
  
"You, I'm not so sure about," Fred continued. "You do look quite a bit like the type Malfoy and Weasley would hate, what with your ragged, over-sized clothes and all, but... who are you?"  
  
Harry looked bewildered at the two boys standing in front of him. It took him a moment to begin to gather his thoughts together, but finally he spoke, "What do you mean, who am I?"  
  
"Just that," Fred answered. "I mean, you seem to know who we are, but I haven't a bloody clue as to who you are."  
  
"Of course I know who you are!" Harry spluttered. "You're Fred and George, everybody knows that!"  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say everybody..." George demurred.  
  
Fred smiled eagerly, "I would! After that end of year prank last spring!" George's face lit up at the memory.  
  
"End of year prank... What end of year prank?" Harry wondered aloud. He couldn't remember any prank and hoped that Fred and George would have realized that a prank at the end of last year would have been very distasteful.  
  
Fred laughed, "Obviously you wouldn't know, mate. You didn't go to Hogwarts last year."  
  
"Yes, I did!" Harry insisted. "I did, and I went to Hogwarts the year before that, and the year before that, and..."  
  
"All right, all right, we get it," George interrupted. "You went to Hogwarts last year... except you didn't. I think I'd remember you, what with that awesome scar on your forehead. Where'd you get that, by the way?"  
  
Harry instinctively reached up to flatten his bangs down over his scar as he glared at the twins, "You think you're being funny, about my scar? Listen, if this is one of your pranks... and, it'd be a good one, I'll admit... but if it is, it's not very funny, so you can stop it now!"  
  
Fred and George shared a confused expression, and then both turned back to Harry. "I don't know what you're talking about," Fred began.  
  
"I mean, sure, we were planning on letting off a few dungbombs in the Prefect's compartment on the Express later on, but nothing here in the station. Are you crazy, with our mum here to catch us?" George continued.  
  
Fred grinned, "She's left now, you know?" Both boys eyes lit up with the possibilities this presented.  
  
"You really don't know who I am?" Harry asked, a defeated tone drifting into his voice.  
  
George took pity on the younger boy, "You could start by telling us your name."  
  
A girl brushed past Harry in a hurry, bumping her cart into his leg. "Sorry," she mumbled as she bustled past. He stared after her for a second, sure that he was seeing Hermione, but she didn't stop to pay him a moment's notice.  
  
Suddenly, he saw a hand waving in front of his face. "Yoo-hoo," Fred said, "your name, mate?"  
  
"You really don't know?" Harry asked once more, a note of resigned acceptance in his voice. The twins shook their identical heads no. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Harry," George stuck out his hand and Harry took it. The red haired boy shook his hand vigorously up and down for a few seconds before Harry could wrench his hand away.  
  
"And you say you've been to Hogwarts for a few years now?" Fred asked.  
  
Harry nodded quickly, "Yes, this'll be my fifth year now."  
  
"Which house?"  
  
"Gryffindor, of course!" Harry was growing more worried by the second.  
  
Fred wrinkled his nose, looking Harry over thoughtfully, "No, I think we'd definitely remember you if you were." He motioned to his brother, "We're seventh year Gryffindors ourselves. Neither of us Head Boy as our dear mother would have liked, but we can't all be Percy Weasleys can we now?"  
  
Harry glanced down at his cart as Hedwig chirped happily from her cage. "You remember me, don't you girl?" he extended a hand in the general direction of his owl. "I'm not going mad, am I?"  
  
George clapped his hand on the younger boy's shoulder, "I think you are, mate. But that's okay. Can't speak for Fred, but I for one like you."  
  
"Me, too, mate. Never can have too many loony people around," Fred slapped his hand down on Harry's other shoulder. "So, before we miss the Express..."  
  
"Dear mother would hate that..."  
  
Fred silenced his brother with a glare, "Why don't we go stow our stuff and find a compartment?"  
  
"You are coming with us, aren't you, Harry?" George asked. "You can't very well just stay in the station."  
  
Their point was emphasized as the train's engine whistled and let off a puff of smoke. "All right," Harry said. "This is so weird."  
  
"No, it's magic," Fred said happily. "Come on, then." The twins pushed their carts in front of them as they hurried towards the train. Harry shook his head as he watched them go. After a moment, he grabbed the handle of his cart and hurried after them. Fred and George hauled their trunks onto the train and then turned to help Harry with his. Once all of their belongings were on board, Fred reached a hand down to pull Harry onto the train.  
  
The platform was empty as the three boys boarded the train. They each grabbed their trunks and Harry clutched Hedwig's cage to his chest. The door swung shut behind them as they started down the corridor in search of an empty compartment.  
  
--------------------------  
  
The Hogwarts Express lurched out of the station and into the open air of the magical realm of London. Harry stood up and glanced out the window as the familiar landscape passed by. He, Fred, and George had found a compartment in the back of the train. It was the only one open, meaning they had to drag their belongings all the way down the long corridor.  
  
Once their luggage was safely stowed, he had opened Hedwig's cage and the owl now sat on the bench next to her cage, warily eyeing Fred and George who were bent over a notebook in front of them on the opposite bench. Harry turned from the window and collapsed onto the bench next to his owl with a sigh.  
  
Fred looked up and smiled at him, "Come on, mate, it can't be that bad! We're here, after all."  
  
"Well, apparently we're wherever he's come from, too," George commented. "So it's not like we're a special treat, is it?"  
  
"I think I'm always a special treat!"  
  
Harry smiled, "You can't expect me just to slip into your world, no questions asked, can you? I've no idea how I got here or how to get back!"  
  
"So you think this is an alternate universe for you or something?" George asked. "That's kind of, well, impossible, isn't it?"  
  
"Cleary not," Fred countered. "How else do you explain it?"  
  
Harry looked at the notebook laying open on Fred's lap. Writing in the twins' messy scrawl covered the parchment pages inside, and there were a few diagrams of what appeared to be the lay out of the train on the page it was opened to. "What is that?"  
  
Fred and George looked at each other and seemed to be having a silent conversation as Harry watched them. Finally, they appeared to reach a decision, and Fred said, "We'll only tell you because we like you. And, who knows, you might not even be real."  
  
"It's the secret to our success. All of our research and planning. Everything we've done or learned over the years," George continued.  
  
"It's all in this notebook," Fred finished. "We've never let anybody else see this, so you better not make us regret it." He handed the notebook over to Harry who looked at the red cover.  
  
The notebook was beaten up and clearly well loved. In gold lettering, centered on the front, it said 'The Private Property of Fred and George Symmons: Danger Contained Inside'. Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion, "Symmons?"  
  
"What about it?" Fred asked. "I thought you said you knew us?"  
  
Harry nodded, "I do. But... Symmons? Is that your surname?"  
  
"Of course it is," George said. "What do you think?"  
  
Harry looked down and read the name off the notebook silently in his head again. Then he turned back to the twins, "Where I come from... well, the Fred and George I know... their last name isn't Symmons."  
  
Fred looked confused by this. At first, George did, too, but then he seemed to come to a realization, "Is our name Weasley? Well, are our other us named Weasley, I guess I should say?"  
  
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. "That's it. Why isn't that... I mean, if you know that it would be Weasley, then..."  
  
Fred seemed to understand now, too, but it was George who began to explain it to Harry. It was clearly not his favorite subject to talk about. "Our last name used to be Weasley. When we were, what, about three years old, our mum had her last baby, our sister, Ginny, you know her, right?" Harry nodded, so George continued, "Well, she and dad weren't on very good terms even then, and once the baby was born, things got worse. Soon, I think Ginny was only about four months old, they divorced."  
  
Harry was shocked at this. He couldn't even begin to imagine the Weasleys he knew getting divorced. Fred picked up where his brother left off, "Dad took Ginny with him, as well as Ron and Percy. The rest of us stayed with Mum... George and I, and Bill and Charlie, that is. I don't know, are there others in your... your whatever?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "No, just those."  
  
George nodded, "Okay, so pretty soon, Dad started to get even further away from the type of person Mum wanted to be associated with. He's very big on purity of blood and all of that. So Mum decided to go back to her maiden name, Symmons, and had all of our names changed accordingly."  
  
"Without the hindrance of a Muggle loving wife, he began to rise in the Ministry. So that's why Ron and Ginny are rich little Slytherins and we're just poor Gryffindors," Fred finished.  
  
Harry's head was spinning. Any part of him that was still clinging to the hope that this was just a very elaborate prank was quickly leaving him behind. "It's just so strange," he said. "I just saw all of you in King's Cross Station, and everyone was happy. And now this..."  
  
"It's weird for us, too," George said. "We've never met anyone from, you know, anywhere else, either. What're you going to do once we get to school?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry admitted. He wrinkled his eyebrows as he considered it. "I hadn't really thought of that, I guess. I suppose I'll have to speak with the professors, or something," he sighed, then glanced down at his wrist before remembering he had no watch. "It is still the same year and all, isn't it?"  
  
"1995, mate," Fred answered. Harry nodded. He opened his mouth to ask something else, but was interrupted when the heavy compartment doors were hauled open.  
  
The girl who had bumped into Harry on the platform stood in the doorway, her head down, wavy brown hair cascading over her face. She was panting in an effort to catch her breath and sounded as though she had run all the way down the train. She was dressed in ordinary Muggle clothing, but the neck to her shirt seemed to be stretched out of shape.  
  
"Hermione?" George asked. The girl looked up and Harry was surprised to see that it was indeed his friend. "What happened to your shirt?" he indicated the distorted neckline.  
  
"Weasley," she muttered, "and Malfoy."  
  
"Of course," Fred sighed, standing up. He walked over to her and pushed her into the compartment, then glanced out into the hallway. He turned back into the compartment and shoved the doors closed. "You've really got to start standing up to them. What'd they do?"  
  
She sighed, "Tried to curse me. And when I ran, grabbed me by my shirt. But I got away," she added unnecessarily. "Can I sit in here?"  
  
"Of course," George said. Then he looked at Harry, who was staring wide-eyed at Hermione. "Oh, by the way, this is Harry. He's, umm..."  
  
"He's new," Fred finished. The boys shared a look and this time included Harry in the silent discussion, wherein they decided not to tell Hermione about Harry's mysterious appearance.  
  
Hermione smiled slightly at him and moved to sit down next to Harry, but jumped in shock and scooted to the end of the bench as Hedwig nipped affectionately at her hand. "Is that your owl?" she asked Harry.  
  
"Yes," he answered. "Sorry about that. Don't mind her, she's just friendly."  
  
Fred sat down again and then noticed the secret notebook was still in Harry's hands. He jumped up quickly, snatched the book back, and stashed it in his luggage. As he finally sat down for good, he looked across to see Hermione's inquisitive look. "Oh, don't mind that," he cautioned. "Nothing really, just a bit of fun."  
  
"Something else to make Gryffindor lose points?" she asked warily.  
  
Fred smirked at her, "Nothing worse than melting cauldrons in potions class."  
  
Hermione blushed furiously and looked down at her hands, "I don't do it on purpose. I can't help it if I don't understand potions at all. And with horrid Malfoy and Weasley in there to taunt me about it all the time... Did you know Malfoy has been made prefect?"  
  
"That is disgusting," George agreed. Fred nodded and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from doing the same. He had to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to know who these people were.  
  
"Do you know who the new Gryffindor prefects are?" Fred asked.  
  
"Neville Longbottom, of course," Hermione rolled her eyes, "and Padma Patil. Which Parvati isn't too happy about."  
  
"What do you have against Neville?" Fred asked.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes again, "Oh, he's only Mr. Perfect. Most popular boy, the best grades in the school, full of himself, every girl wants him. If he was any worse, he'd be in Slytherin!" She looked at the boys across from her, "Oh, you two just like him because he plays chaser on the bloody Quidditch team!"  
  
"And he's a damn good chaser, too!" Fred exclaimed.  
  
"Whatever," Hermione said. "There is a world beyond Quidditch, you know!"  
  
Fred nodded, "Sure there is. Pranks!" George high-fived him and Harry joined in their laughter. "You do like Quidditch, don't you, Harry?" Fred asked.   
  
Harry nodded, "I played seeker at my, er, old school."  
  
Hermione glanced over at Harry and he could almost see a question forming in her eyes. After a second, she asked, "Are you going to be sorted? What happens with a transfer student? That is what you are, right, you look too old to be a first year."  
  
Harry didn't know how to answer this without telling Hermione the truth, something he had a feeling wasn't a good thing to do. He opened and shut his mouth a few times while trying to think of something to say; finally, George stepped in and saved him.  
  
"He'll be a fifth year, like you. And he's been pre-sorted. Gryffindor. McGonnagall didn't think it would be right to make him be sorted with all of the first years, you know," George told her. Hermione looked curiously at Harry for a second but then nodded and accepted this answer without further question. Once she had turned away from him, Harry mouthed a quick thank you to George who smiled in response and gave him a thumbs up.  
  
Just then, the doors slid noisily open again and the four Gryffindors looked up to see Draco Malfoy leaning lazily against the doorframe. Ron and Ginny Weasley were with him and a boy that Harry recognized immediately as Goyle was hovering behind the group.  
  
"Well, well, well, isn't this sweet," Draco drawled, observing the people in the compartment in front of him. "Very Gryffindor of you, Symmons," he glared at both of the twins, "to take the crazy boy in with you."  
  
"Who's crazy?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Quiet, mudblood," Ron snarled at her. Harry was surprised to see that she immediately quieted. "The boy next to you is completely mad, or haven't you noticed? Harry Potter, wasn't it?"  
  
"The boy who lived?" Draco chuckled.  
  
Fred, George, and Hermione all looked questioningly at Harry who suddenly wished he could disappear into his seat. Luckily, George came to his rescue, "He's not mad, Malfoy. He thought you two were people he recognized from his old school."  
  
Ron snorted with laughter, "Did he then? And why would people from his old school be here?"  
  
No one had a good answer to that and Ron and Draco both smiled condescendingly down at the lot of them.   
  
"Why don't you all leave?" Fred growled. "No one wants you here."  
  
Draco smirked and stepped further into their compartment. Ron did the same, following the blond boys lead. "I don't think I will," Draco reached down and grabbed a lock of Hermione's hair. He fingered it as she tried to jerk her head away from him. "I think I'd like to have a bit of fun with the mudblood."  
  
Fred jumped up and physically put himself between Draco and Hermione. She gave out a yelp of pain as Draco tugged on her hair as he was pushed away, but he quickly dropped her hair and she huddled by the window as Fred glared down at Draco. "I said leave. This is our compartment. And don't think I don't know some curses to make you regret it if you stay."  
  
The two boys eyed each other for a few minutes that felt like an eternity to Harry until Ginny's voice broke their concentration. "Come on, Draco," she purred. "We might as well leave. There's hardly any room to snog in here anyway."  
  
Draco turned to look at her as she smiled sweetly at him. He glanced back at Hermione and then turned to leave, muttering obscenely under his breath. After he exited the compartment, Ron turned to do the same, but not without directing a rude gesture at both of his estranged brothers.  
  
Hermione whimpered from her spot in the corner as Goyle slammed the doors shut behind the four Slytherins. Fred paced one lap around the small compartment and then sat back down next to his twin.  
  
"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked. The girl nodded quickly, rubbing the part of her scalp sore from Draco's pulling her hair.  
  
"You've really, really got to learn to stand up for yourself," George said. "We won't always be here to run them off. And who knows if they'll always listen to us anyway."  
  
Fred nodded in agreement, "This time they only left because of Ginny. And how disgusting is that, her going to snog Malfoy. Even with everything, she's still my sister, and that's just wrong."  
  
"He's really horrid, isn't he?" Harry muttered.   
  
"Absolutely despicable," Fred agreed. Then he grinned slyly at Harry, "The boy who lived? What's that about?"  
  
Harry shrank back in his seat again and smoothed his hair back down over his scar. He hunched down and blushed slightly, but hoped the others didn't notice. "It's nothing really."  
  
"Well, obviously it's something," George said. "If you told them about it. Why'd you tell them about it, and you won't tell us? We haven't called you mad!"  
  
Fred shook his head, "Actually, we have. But what is that? It's something with your scar isn't it! Someone cursed you, and you lived, and you got that scar! I'm right, aren't I?"  
  
"Scar?" Hermione asked, leaning forward to look at Harry. With a sigh, he pushed his bangs out of the way and let her see the lightening bolt shaped marking across his forehead. "Oh, wow," she muttered. "That looks like it was painful."  
  
"I'd rather not talk about it," Harry scowled. "And I'd rather not talk about the whole boy who lived thing, either, all right? And I didn't tell them about it, I just mentioned it when I was trying to..." he glanced over at Hermione. "When I thought I recognized them. And they would have known what it was anyway, if they were, er, who I thought they were."  
  
"Why did you think you recognized them, Harry? There wouldn't have been other boys from your other school transferring here, too, would there?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry laughed ruefully, "No, I'm pretty sure there wouldn't be. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one. Me and Hedwig here," he ran his hand over his owl's head.  
  
Fred laughed and Hermione turned to look at him. "Oh, nothing," he motioned back towards Harry. "Just, you know, thinking of something else funny." She wrinkled her nose at him, clearly aware that something strange was going on, but not anywhere near being able to wager a guess as to what it was.  
  
Suddenly, something occurred to Harry. He turned to the twins, "Was your father a Slytherin?"  
  
George looked surprised at the question, but nodded quickly, "Yes, I'm pretty sure he was. I'm sure Ron and Ginny would make a fuss about it if he were something else."  
  
"Or maybe they'd try to hide it," Fred offered. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Just that you're so different from them," Harry said. "It's just interesting, is all."  
  
Hermione nodded, "Well, it's a good thing, isn't it? It'd be horrid to have four like those two," she motioned towards the door the Slytherins had left through, "running around."  
  
"We were raised by our Gryffindor mum," George added. "Loves Muggles a lot, she does. She and Hermione's parents are great friends. Hermione's Muggle born, by the way, I don't know if you knew..."   
  
"You don't have anything against Muggle borns, do you?" Hermione asked. She, Fred, and George all waited with interest for Harry's answer.  
  
"Not at all!" Harry said quickly. "One of my best friends from... from back home is a Muggle born."  
  
Hermione sighed happily with relief, "That's good to know. It's so horrible with the people, mostly Slytherins, of course, who are all so prejudiced. And I try so hard to be as good as everyone else, but I'm such a failure as a witch, so that's just one more thing for them all to make fun of me for."  
  
"You're not a failure, Hermione," George said. "You just need a little extra work, I guess."   
  
"All right," Fred cut in. "This conversation has gotten far too serious for my liking. There will be more than enough seriousness once classes start."  
  
George snorted, "Since when have we ever been serious in classes?"  
  
"Oh, right," Fred laughed. "So much for that idea. Anyway, that doesn't mean we can't have fun for now. Anyone for a game of Exploding Snap?" He reached into his pocket, rummaged around for a minute, and pulled out a battered deck of Exploding Snap playing cards. Harry wondered how it could have taken him so long to find the deck of cards in his pants pocket, but figured he must have magically expanded the pockets, no doubt for the purpose of holding more prank items.  
  
He offered the cards around to everyone. Harry nodded his assent but Hermione declined to play. The three boys gathered close together, setting a trunk between them for a playing surface, and began a game.  
  
Hermione watched with interest from her seat by the window as the boys played happily until it was time to change into their robes and prepare for arrival at the school.  
  
To be continued...   
  
Scenes from Chapter Two: Welcome to Hogwarts  
  
- "Wait a second," the boy across from Seamus said. Harry recognized immediately that he was Dean Thomas. "Potter? Are you related to the Quidditch player?"  
  
- "Sirius Black?" Harry asked in a whisper, as if the shock had knocked his voice out of him.  
  
"That's him," Fred said. "What, you know him where you came from, too?"  
  
- She motioned for Harry to come forward. He stepped towards the Head Table as she stood up and came around to meet him. "Who are you, boy?" she asked in a not entirely unkind voice.  
  
"Harry. Harry Potter," he answered quickly and quietly.  
  
"And you are in fifth year here?" 


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

Chapter Two: Welcome to Hogwarts  
  
At first glance, the Great Hall was just as Harry remembered it as he, Fred, George, and Hermione followed the crowd of students in the second year and above through the doors and into the massive dining room. As per his memory of the room from his own world, there were four long tables lined up perpendicular to another, somewhat shorter, table. The seats at this fifth table were already almost all occupied by the professors, many of whom Harry recognized, though a few looked less familiar.  
  
The students split apart upon passing through the doorway and headed to their appropriate house tables. Harry realized that he didn't know if his house table would be in the same place as he remembered, but before he had time to put much thought into this, Fred grabbed his elbow and directed him towards the second table from the right.  
  
"This is the Gryffindor table," George said as the three boys sat down together. Hermione went to sit with Parvati and Padma Patil, leaving the three of them alone again. "That one's Slytherin," he pointed to the table to their right. "And those are Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," he indicated the two tables to the left.  
  
Harry nodded, taking it all in. He felt in almost equal parts that he was in a familiar setting and that he was in his first year again, seeing everything for the first time. A boy plopped down in the seat next to Harry and he was startled from his thoughts as he turned to see who it was.  
  
Harry's eyes widened for a moment, but then he got control of himself as he remembered he wasn't supposed to recognize these people. The boy next to him was without a doubt Seamus Finnegan. Seeing the recognition in Harry's eyes, George quickly introduced the two boys, "Harry, this is Seamus Finnegan. He'll be one of your roommates. Seamus, this is Harry Potter. He's new."  
  
Seamus nodded agreeably, "Nice to meet you, Harry. Welcome to Hogwarts."  
  
"Wait a second," the boy across from Seamus said. Harry recognized immediately that he was Dean Thomas. "Potter? Are you related to the Quidditch player?"  
  
Harry wrinkled his brow, "Um, no, no... I don't think so."  
  
"Oh, that's too bad. It'd be cool if you were," Dean said. "I'm Dean Thomas, by the way. You're a fifth year? Then I'll be your roommate, too." The introductions completed, Seamus and Dean went back to the conversation they had been having since they got off the train, which sounded to Harry like a debate over professional Quidditch teams.  
  
Harry turned to look at the teacher's table in the front of the room. Professor McGonnagall was there, as were Professors Vector and Binns. Hagrid was sitting down at the end of the table, as usual, and Professor Sinistra was chatting with Professor Flitwick. Notably absent were, Harry noticed, both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape, but Fred's voice interrupted his thoughts before he could contemplate this further.  
  
"You do have the sorting where, you know, where you came from, right?" he asked.  
  
Harry nodded, "Yes, of course. But... does Professor McGonnagall not do the sorting here? She's already at the head table."  
  
"Why would she do the sorting?" George asked. "That's a job for the Deputy Headmaster, not the Headmistress."  
  
Harry looked surprised to hear this, "McGonnagall's the Headmistress?"  
  
"Of course. Has been ever since the year before Bill came here. Why, who is yours?"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry responded. Fred looked confused and George had a thoughtful expression on his face.  
  
After a moment, George shook his head, "I'm pretty sure I've never heard that name before. Dumbledore? No, doesn't sound familiar. Is she..."  
  
"He," Harry interrupted.  
  
"Oh, right, is he..." George continued, but Harry didn't hear another word of the question. His attention was stolen away as the doors to the Great Hall banged open once again and the first years were led into the Hall. But it wasn't any of the students that caught his eye; it was the professor leading them.  
  
"Is that..." he began to ask. Fred and George looked in the direction he was staring.  
  
Fred nodded, "Deputy Headmaster. Professor Black, he's head of Ravenclaw house and Transfiguration teacher. He's not bad, a bit stern, of course, but a nice guy, all and all."  
  
"Sirius Black?" Harry asked in a whisper, as if the shock had knocked his voice out of him.  
  
"That's him," Fred said. "What, you know him where you came from, too?"  
  
Harry tried to respond, but no words came out of his mouth for a few seconds. If he had thought Ron had changed a lot, it was nothing compared to Sirius. This was not at all the godfather he remembered. This Sirius was tall with neat black hair that fell just past his ears. He was fairly muscular, from what Harry could see; his skin didn't look like it had ever been tan and his blue eyes glimmered at the students around the Great Hall, but there was a serious expression in his eyes and on his face. The scroll with all of the students' names was clutched in his left hand.  
  
"He's just so...." Harry paused, trying to find the right word. Nothing in particular stuck out, so he settled on, "different."  
  
George leaned in so the three boys could talk privately. "He's not Deputy Headmaster in your world, then?"  
  
Harry shook his head no, "Not in a million years."  
  
"Well, he is here," George laughed. "Obviously. He became a professor here pretty soon after he graduated, I believe. I know Bill was in school with him and then had him for a professor. Which is pretty weird, if you ask me."  
  
"He's fairly strict, you know," Fred continued. "Not much tolerance for our pranks. And a very demanding professor, academically and all. But he's not a bad guy. He's fair and he'll stick up for you, even if you aren't in Ravenclaw. He's got a couple of kids in school here, all in his house. I heard he married his Hogwarts sweetheart."  
  
George nodded, "That's what Bill said. She was in Gryffindor."  
  
"He's not a prankster?" Harry asked. "And he was a Ravenclaw?" He was bewildered. This Sirius was becoming less and less like the one he remembered.  
  
Before either boy could respond, Sirius's voice broke through over the various conversations at the house tables. He called the first of the first year students forward. A small, blond boy stepped up and pulled the hat over his head. As the boy jogged happily off to the Hufflepuff table a second later, Fred and George turned back to Harry.  
  
"He's nothing like the one in your world, then, is he?" Fred asked.  
  
Harry shook his head quickly, "Not a bit. He's... well; he was, I guess, one of the most notorious pranksters at Hogwarts in his time. And in Gryffindor... I think. He's never said, actually. You two worship him, sort of. I mean, you don't know that you do..."  
  
"We don't know we worship him? Are we daft?" George asked.  
  
Fred shook his head, "Forget about that, George. I want to know why we worship a teacher. Especially one like Professor Black!"  
  
"You idiot," George berated his brother, "clearly he's not a teacher where Harry came from. He loves pranks there, or are you deaf?"  
  
Fred snorted, "I am not deaf. It's just hard to think of Professor Black as anything other than what he is."  
  
"Imagine how I'm feeling," Harry sighed.  
  
"Sorry, mate," George said. "So tell me, how do we worship him without knowing it?"  
  
Harry glanced to his side, and was glad to see that neither Dean nor Seamus was paying any attention to their conversation. The students sitting on George's far side were equally disinterested in the boy's conversation. "When he was a student, he and his friends made a map. It showed all of the grounds of Hogwarts, all of the secret passages, and anyone who was in the castle."  
  
"Bloody brilliant," Fred exclaimed. "We've been trying to do something like that! Our first attempt is in the notebook."  
  
"Did it work?" George asked.  
  
Harry nodded quickly, "It's great, and it works perfectly. And he and his friends signed it with their nicknames, so you two don't know that it's really them."  
  
"So we have this map?" Fred asked.  
  
"You did," Harry began. "But you gave it to me."  
  
George looked surprised, "We must really like you, then! So you have it?" Fred and George both looked very excited at the possibilities this presented. Harry hated to disappoint them.  
  
"I did. But... last year, it got taken up by a teacher."  
  
"Harry!" George admonished. His exclamation caught the attention of a few nearby students, so the boys huddled closer together to continue talking. The sorting was still going on in the background; Professor Black had reached the T's. "We entrusted you with such a prized possession, and you got it taken up?"  
  
"I'm sorry..." he began, but then looked curiously at the twins. "Why am I apologizing to you two?"  
  
Fred smiled, "Who knows? You know Professor Black pretty well, then?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"All these bloody ambiguities," George scolded him. "Is there anything you can say for sure, Harry?"  
  
Harry sighed, "Listen, do you want to hear the story or not?"  
  
The twins quieted and looked expectantly at Harry. Fred drew his fingers across his lips as if zipping his mouth shut.  
  
"All right," Harry continued. "I don't know Sirius too well because he was in Azkaban most of my life." Fred and George's eyes both widened but they remained silent. "He was friends with my parents, and when Lord Voldemort came after them, he was supposed to be their secret keeper. Everyone thought that he was, but he wasn't..." Harry paused, somehow tired of telling the story. It occurred to him that neither of the twins flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name. "My parents ended up being killed; their actual secret keeper betrayed them, but everyone thought it was Sirius. He spent 12 years in Azkaban for it."  
  
"Who was it, then?" George asked in excitement. "Who was the real secret keeper?"  
  
Harry sighed, "Peter Pettigrew." He spat the name with disgust he couldn't keep from his voice.  
  
As the words left his mouth, Fred burst out laughing and George snorted loudly. Students up and down the table turned to look. Harry saw a couple of girls from the Ravenclaw table glance in their direction as well; he couldn't be sure, but one looked quite a bit like Lavender Brown.  
  
"Quiet, will you?" he hissed at the twins. "What's so funny, anyway?"  
  
Fred held up his hand, motioning for Harry to wait, as he and his twin finished laughing. The students who had looked up passed it off as simply more of Fred and George's typical antics and returned to either their own conversations or watching the sorting, as most students were doing.  
  
"We really can't tell you," George managed to get out between fits of laughter. Fred was beginning to get control of himself, but George was still hysterical as he continued, "It's really better that you find out on your own, honestly."  
  
"Control yourself, for Merlin's sake," Fred admonished his brother. After a moment, George did stop laughing, but there was still a mischievous glint in his eyes as Harry glanced warily at the two boys. "Wait," Fred thought of something. "So you don't have any parents, then?"  
  
Harry shook his head no.  
  
George looked sympathetic, "That's too bad, mate. But at least no one to be worried about your being gone."  
  
"Well, I do have friends and such, you know. They might miss me!"  
  
"Oh, right," Fred laughed. A confused look came over his face and he appeared to be trying to remember something. A moment later, he said, "You mentioned, who was it, Volde-something? Who's that?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He looked back and forth between the twins, "You mean you don't know?" They exchanged a glance and shook their heads no. "You don't have Voldemort here? You-Know-Who?"  
  
"All these epithets," George said. "Boy Who Lived, You-Know-Who, does anyone you know go by their proper name?"  
  
"He's... Voldemort is the most feared dark wizard ever. Well, in a century, or so, at least. And most people are too scared to even say his name, that's why they call him You-Know-Who," Harry explained. Both twins looked interestedly at Harry for a minute.  
  
A spark of understanding came over George's face. "I get it!" he crowed. "You-Know-Who gave you that scar and now you're the Boy Who Lived. It all fits!" Harry didn't respond, so George prodded him, "I'm right, aren't I?"  
  
Reluctantly, Harry nodded, "But can we talk about something else, maybe? It's not exactly my favorite topic of conversation, you know." Fred and George nodded their agreement. "All right," Harry continued. "How about you telling me what's so funny about Peter Pettigrew, then?"  
  
"No, no," Fred shook his head. "That really is something best learned on your own."  
  
Before Harry could question them further, Professor Black's voice rang out over the mass of students, "Professor McGonnagall would like to make a few start of term notices." The three boys glanced to the front where the Headmistress was standing up. The sorting was over and the stool and hat were gone.  
  
"Thank you, Professor Black," Professor McGonnagall began. "First of all, to all the returning students, welcome to a new year. And a special welcome to all of the first year students this year. I hope you will all help to make this year one of the best Hogwarts has ever had." She paused for a moment. "Quidditch matches will begin again this October. Anyone wishing to try out for their house teams should see their respective captains. As you can all see, there are no new professors to introduce, so I'll move right along. Students will all note," with this she glanced at Fred and George specifically, "that the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, still forbidden." The two boys smiled angelically; she shook her head at them. "So, without further ado, let the feast begin!" The Headmistress clapped her hands and the four long house tables filled with food.  
  
"Not very considerate of her," Fred said through a mouthful of potatoes. "She might have introduced the professors for Harry's sake!"  
  
George rolled his eyes at his brother, "She doesn't know he's here, now does she?"  
  
Fred shrugged his shoulders, but Harry smiled, "It's all right, I know most of them anyway. Assuming everyone is who I think they are."  
  
George made to grab an ear of corn from a plate across from him, but paused midway as he thought of something, "You'll have to go talk to McGonnagall, you know," he told Harry. "She doesn't know you're here. I think she'd rather find out now, than when you start popping up in classes."  
  
"That'll be a fun conversation for him," Fred laughed. "Yes, Professor, I somehow ended up in this world, but it's an alternative universe for me. I know everyone, but no one knows me. Or else, I'm just bloody insane."  
  
Harry shook his head, "George's right, I have to. What do you think she'll do?"  
  
"What can she do?" George asked. "Unless she knows how to send you back. In which case, it's been nice knowing you, mate."  
  
"Right," Harry sighed. "Well, after dinner, all right? Let me eat this meal in peace?"  
  
Fred and George both nodded their assent to this plan. Fred reached out and grabbed a plate of lasagna, scooped what looked to Harry like a very large serving onto his own plate, and then handed the dish to Harry.   
  
Harry grabbed the offered dish and quietly served himself some dinner. He knew he had to do it, but of all the conversations he had ever had with Professor McGonnagall, this one figured to make his all time least desirable list.  
  
------------------------  
  
The Great Hall was buzzing with the excited conversations of students ready to begin the new school year an hour later as the Welcome Feast drew to a close. Harry scooped the last of a piece of chocolate cake off of his plate and into his mouth a moment before the desserts vanished from the table.  
  
Fred and George were sitting across from him clutching their stomachs; Harry couldn't be sure if they were faking it or if they had really eaten so much that they were feeling sick. Based on the piles off food that he had seen make their way to the twins' plates, Harry was equally willing to believe either possibility.  
  
The initial shock of ending up in a world that was not his own was beginning to wear off, Harry noted, but he had to remind himself every time he looked around that this was not the place he knew. In this world, Ron hated him already and Hermione had no idea who he was. Harry suddenly felt saddened as he thought of his two best friends back home. He supposed they were in the Great Hall at the feast as well, assuming that time was still running parallel. He wondered what was going on there and if anybody missed him. He could imagine perfectly Hermione's frantic face and could just see Ron telling Dumbledore in a rush that You-Know-Who must have done this.  
  
"Why the long face?"  
  
Harry came out of his dream world and looked to see Fred and George watching him. They both seemed to be over their stomach troubles by now; Harry figured this was related to the fact that no one seemed to be laughing at their antics anymore. Harry sighed.  
  
"I just miss my friends, that's all."  
  
"Well, we're your friends now!" Fred smiled. "What, don't you like us?"  
  
Harry laughed ruefully, "I do, of course. I'm just worried, you know, my friends... what they must be thinking now. There are people who will think something truly horrible has happened. They're bound to have realized I'm not there by now."  
  
"They'll be too busy eating to miss you, mate!" Fred laughed, and then saw the serious expression on Harry's face. "Sorry, not helping things am I?"  
  
"Not especially," Harry muttered.   
  
George reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a colorfully wrapped candy. After inspecting it for a moment, he passed it off to Harry. At the reluctant expression on Harry's face, George commanded, "Oh, come on, try it. Our latest invention. We haven't named it yet, but it's a cheering chewy fruit flavored sweet. If it works right, you'll be feeling better in no time!"  
  
"And if it doesn't," Harry said, "I might end up a toad."  
  
"There is that possibility, of course," Fred laughed. Harry shook his head. Despite George's promise of harmlessness, he had seen the effects of the twins' inventions more than enough to be unwilling to try one. "Try it, Harry. You'll need the extra happiness when you have your talk with McGonnagall."  
  
"Oh, man," Harry groaned, still not taking the candy. "I had almost forgotten about that."  
  
"She'll be announcing the end of the feast any minute, Harry," George shoved the candy into Harry's hand. "You'll want to be prepared, of course." Harry contemplated the piece of candy now in his hand. It looked innocent enough, but this Fred and George were far too much like the ones he knew for that to satisfy Harry.  
  
"I'll have it later," Harry stuffed the candy into the pocket of his own robes. "I'll need it more after the conversation, won't I?"  
  
Fred laughed, "'Spose you will. Good thinking, mate." He reached across to pat Harry encouragingly on the shoulder. Harry smiled back at him, glad to have simultaneously avoided offending his new friends and avoided eating the candy. After a moment, he turned and glanced up towards the head table.  
  
Professor McGonnagall was just standing up. Fred and George followed his gaze to the front of the room as Professor Black clinked his spoon against the side of his now empty glass. The multitude of voices in the Great Hall quickly fell silent.  
  
McGonnagall smiled, "Thank you. Now that our stomachs are full and the hour is drawing later, it is time for the feast to end. But before everyone returns to his or her common room, I would like to announce the Head Boy and Girl for this year. First of all, our new Head Boy is Mr. Roger Davies of Ravenclaw." She indicated the boy who stood up near the middle of the Ravenclaw house table. There was applause throughout the Great Hall, most noticeably from the Ravenclaw table. "Congratulations, Mr. Davies," she continued. The Head Boy nodded in her direction and sat back down. "And our Head Girl, from Gryffindor house, Ms. Katie Bell." The girl stood up to applause from everyone in the Great Hall except the Slytherins, who Harry noticed were scowling at her. "Congratulations to you as well, Ms. Bell."   
  
The Head Girl sat down and Professor McGonnagall waited a moment longer for the Hall to get quiet again. "Now, if there is nothing else," she glanced around her. No one moved. "You are all dismissed to return to your common rooms. Have a wonderful new year, everyone!"  
  
The moment she had finished speaking, the Great Hall erupted in noise once more. Students all around Harry hopped up and began to hurry towards the doors, but he remained rooted to his seat. Dean and Seamus ran after Parvati and Hermione as Harry watched Padma and Neville, the new prefects, round up the first year Gryffindors. Fred and George had stood up as well, but didn't leave. They both watched Harry as he watched the zoo of people around him.  
  
"Now's as good a time as any," George said to Harry. Harry nodded reluctantly but still didn't move. "I told you, you ought to have had the cheering candy. Come on," he grabbed Harry's arm from across the table. "Out of your seat."  
  
Harry stood up and moved away from the table. He looked back to the front of the room. The professors were beginning to leave as well. Only Professors McGonnagall and Black remained seating, and they were chatting busily and seriously about something. "I guess I'd better, before they leave, huh?" Harry chuckled. "All right, then."  
  
"We'll come with you," Fred said. "Give you some credibility." Harry snorted and Fred pretended to look offended. "Are you saying you doubt our credibility? And you've only known us today!"  
  
"Let's just say," Harry said, "that they're more likely to think this is one of your jokes, if you're with me." He shook his head, thinking. "But, I'd like it if you did come. Moral support, and all that..."  
  
George nodded, "We're with you."  
  
The three boys started towards the Head Table where McGonnagall and Black were still seated and talking. All of the other professors were gone and the Great Hall was nearly empty of students, as well. Harry's pace slowed as they got nearer to the two professors. He didn't really know how he was going to explain the situation, seeing as he didn't understand it himself. And the idea that they wouldn't believe him really terrified him. He didn't know what he would do if he wasn't allowed to stay at Hogwarts.  
  
Harry barely had time to contemplate the possibilities because, before he knew it, he was standing right in front of the two teachers, flanked on either side by the twins. Professor McGonnagall looked up and sighed as she saw the two red heads, "You're supposed to be in your dormitory, boys. Don't tell me you've already gotten into trouble this year!"  
  
"Why, Professor McGonnagall, I'm offended," Fred mocked hurt. "To think you would distrust us so!"  
  
"Let's just say I have experience," she muttered. "What brings you here, then, and why aren't you in your common room?" It was at this point that she and Professor Black both seemed to notice Harry. The Headmistress squinted down at him as if trying to decide if she knew him, while Black just looked questioningly at the young boy. The twins seemed to notice the shift in their focus and took advantage of it.  
  
"We're here to give Harry moral support," George said proudly, clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. "What are friends for, after all?"  
  
Professor McGonnagall grabbed her bifocals that had been resting on a chain around her neck and jammed them onto the bridge of her nose. She leaned forward to look more closely at Harry, but there was still no recognition on her face. "I don't believe I know you. Are you a first year?"  
  
Harry was in the process of shaking his head no when Professor Black said, "He's not. There was no Harry and certainly no one who looks like this boy on the roll. He's far too old, anyway." His voice was sharp, but not mean. Harry was startled to hear this Sirius talking about him. From this close distance, Harry thought he could see a bit of the Sirius he knew in this man's eyes.  
  
Harry was brought quickly out of his thoughts when he heard Fred saying, "He's a fifth year. A Gryffindor, naturally, look at his robes. They're spiffy, aren't they? Wish I could have nice robes like that."  
  
"Now, Fred," George chastised his brother. "You know Mum can't afford it."  
  
"I know," Fred answered back, but McGonnagall held up her hand to stop any further response.  
  
She motioned for Harry to come forward. He stepped towards the Head Table as she stood up and came around to meet him. "Who are you, boy?" she asked in a not entirely unkind voice.  
  
"Harry. Harry Potter," he answered quickly and quietly.  
  
"And you are in fifth year here?" Professor Black asked, coming around the table to join them as well. He seemed to tower over Harry as he stood to Professor McGonnagall's right.  
  
Harry looked down at his feet and mumbled, "It's complicated."  
  
"What?" McGonnagall asked. "Speak up, Potter, I can't hear you."  
  
"He said it's complicated," George supplied. "Everything about him is, it seems. Trust us."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Symmons," she said crossly to George, "but I was talking to Mr. Potter here." George held up his hands in surrender and stepped back closer to his twin. "Now, Potter," she began again. "Why don't you begin to tell us your complicated tale?"  
  
Harry shuffled nervously on his feet. He really didn't know how to even begin telling them what had happened to him; he wasn't sure that he, himself, knew. Professor Black seemed to see the boy's distress and motioned towards the nearest table - that of Hufflepuff house, "Why don't we all sit down?"  
  
Professor McGonnagall nodded her agreement to this suggestion and the two professors led the three students to the table. McGonnagall and Black sat down on one side and Fred and George pushed Harry into the seat between them, right across from the adults.  
  
Harry cleared his throat nervously and began, "I went to King's Cross Station this year, same as the past four years. My uncle dropped me off and left in a hurry, so I went inside and met up with my friends. I had been running late, so we all had to hurry and get to the platform. But when I got to the barrier, and tried to go through, I just... didn't..."  
  
"What do you mean, you 'just didn't'?" Professor McGonnagall asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose.  
  
Harry scrunched up his nose, displaying his own confusion at the situation. "I'm not sure. I... I tried to get through, of course. But I bounced back... At first I thought it might be like in second year..." at the confused look of the others around him, he waved that comment off, "Oh, that's another story all together. But after it happened, I looked around me, and my friends were gone!"  
  
"Gone?" Professor Black asked. Harry nodded quickly, and the professor continued, "You mean they had gone through the barrier and you hadn't? That you were the only one who bounced back?"  
  
Shaking his head no, Harry said, "No. I was going alone, and Ron and his mum..."  
  
"Our mum," Fred interrupted.  
  
"Yes, their mum. They were waiting behind me," Harry glared at Fred for interrupting. "But after... after, they were gone. I didn't know what to do, of course. I mean, last time it happened, I was with Ron, and we had the flying car..."  
  
George's eyes lit up with excitement, "Flying car?"  
  
"This story gets better and better," Fred crowed. "Forget about today, tell us about the flying car!"  
  
"He will tell us about today, Mr. Symmons," Professor McGonnagall cautioned Fred. "You and your brother will please keep silent." Duly chastised, the twins sank silently back into their seats and turned to Harry to hear the rest of the tale.  
  
Harry traced his right index finger in a nonsensical pattern over the table in front of him as everyone' attention was directed back in his direction. "I was confused, of course... still am. But I tried again to get onto the platform, and the second time, it worked. Everything appeared the same. I saw Ron standing over by the Express, so I went to talk to him. But he was completely different."  
  
"In his world," Fred supplied, "Weasley isn't a total slimeball." At another glare from the Headmistress, Fred fell silent once again.  
  
"Let me get this straight," Professor McGonnagall began. "You went to the platform with one set of people, the Weasley family, I take it?" Harry nodded his assent to this assumption. "And then, you tried to get onto the platform, but couldn't, and when you looked back everyone was gone?" Harry nodded again. "But once you finally got onto the platform, everyone was there, but they were completely different to how you remembered them."  
  
Harry nodded once again, "Yes. I know it sounds crazy, believe me, I know..."  
  
Professor Black looked suspiciously at Harry. After a moment, he spoke, "How do we know you aren't a dark wizard come to hurt the school and its students? Or even that you're not just one of the twins jokes?"  
  
"I thought that at first, too!" Harry exclaimed. "The joke thing, not the dark wizard, I mean," he clarified. "But it's not. Or if it is, it's absolutely the most elaborate joke ever pulled off. But, with you," he waved his hand towards Black, "and everything, and I just... it's not a joke, Siri... Professor."  
  
"Well, I suppose," Professor McGonnagall began with a weary expression on her face, "that the theory of the alternate universe has just been proven."  
  
"That's all you have to say?" Professor Black replied. "What do we do with him?"  
  
Professor McGonnagall sighed, "That is the question, isn't it? You say you're in Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and a fifth year?" Harry nodded quickly. His fate was about to be decided. "I know no way of sending you back, though rest assured, we will be looking into it. As we don't know exactly how you came to be here, things will be more difficult..." She shook her head in thought, and then began speaking again. "For the short term, at least, I see no other plausible course of action but to assimilate you into the student body here at Hogwarts."  
  
Fred let out a whoop of happiness, and then shrugged his shoulders innocently when everyone turned to face him. "What?" he asked. "It'll just make things simpler, won't it? We've already told a few people that he's a new student here."  
  
"Define a few," Professor Black said.  
  
"Hermione," Fred counted on his fingers as he began to name people, "Seamus, Dean, Malfoy, Weasley, Weasley... I think that's it. Though any one of them might have told others."  
  
"All right," Professor McGonnagall sighed. "I do hope you have at least had the foresight and common sense not to tell people that Mr. Potter has popped up here from another reality?" The three boys all nodded quickly, confirming this to be the case. "Good. Let's keep it that way. Merlin knows what would happen with rumors of alternate universes flying around this place. I certainly don't need to have to deal with it. This school is chaos enough as it is, thanks in no small part to the two of you," she looked pointedly at the twins.  
  
George nodded quickly with a grin, "We've displayed common sense and maturity today, Professor. Don't you think Gryffindor deserves a house point or two?"  
  
"I do not," she said and the grin fell from George's face. "However, you and your brother may earn five house points each if you escort Mr. Potter back to your common room and help him to become acclimated with our Gryffindor House." At the wide grins on the twins' faces, she added, "Assuming that you complete the task without incident and nobody gets hurt."  
  
"Aye-aye, Professor!" Fred mock saluted her. "Can we go now?"  
  
She nodded at them, "You may. Mr. Potter, you will find a bed will be added for you in the fifth year dormitory, and your things will be brought up. I do hope you are able to make yourself comfortable while you are here, and we will be doing everything we can to help you to get back home."  
  
Harry nodded, "Thank you, Professor."  
  
The three boys got quickly from their seats and walked together back towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Harry glanced back as they passed through the doors into the entrance hall to see the two professors talking rapidly to each other.  
  
"This way," George's voice called him back to reality as he realized he had been about to turn the wrong way right out of the Great Hall. "Our common room is just up here a ways," he pointed. "I don't know if yours is the same, where you came from..."  
  
"Behind the Fat Lady?" Harry asked. The twins nodded. "Then it's the same," the boys continued walking towards the common room. As they headed up a staircase, something occurred to Harry, "Do either of you have the password?"  
  
The twins stopped short, causing Harry to almost walk into them as he kept going.   
  
"I knew it!" Fred moaned. "I knew we had forgotten something!"  
  
"Maybe..." George began thoughtfully. "We could just bang our fists on the portrait until someone inside hears and opens it for us..."   
  
"The Fat Lady would just love that..." Fred commented.   
  
As no one could think up a better idea, the three boys continued up the staircase. The sound of heels clacking down the hallway caught their attention as they approached the Fat Lady. The boys turned to see Padma walking towards them.  
  
"I was wondering where you were," she addressed the twins. "If you were going to be taking your time like this, you might at least have found out the password ahead of time. If I weren't here, you'd be stuck out in the hall." She then noticed Harry. "Who are you?"  
  
"Harry Potter," Fred answered for him. "New student. We'll tell you all about it inside, come on, what's the password?"  
  
Padma turned to the Fat Lady and gave the password, "Chudley Cannons." As the portrait swung open, she turned to the three boys behind her, "Neville's idea, of course."  
  
Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion as he stepped through the entryway. Neville, a Quidditch fan? The boy he knew had been too worried about melting cauldron bottoms to think about something like Quidditch. Harry had no more time to think about this, though, because he now found himself in the crowded common room and Padma was calling for everyone's attention so that he could be introduced.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Three: Introducing the Gryffindors  
  
- "Which school did you go to before?" he asked. "I mean, mum's always said Hogwarts was the only wizarding school in the UK." Harry froze. All eyes were on him and he didn't know what to say. Even Fred and George seemed to have abandoned him this time; he thought he could hear Fred trying to hold back unsympathetic laughter.  
  
- "What's wrong with her, why does everyone talk so badly about Hermione?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with her, exactly..." Padma began. "She's really sweet, and all, and her heart's in the right place, it's just..."  
  
"She's a disaster," Parvati supplied, glancing at the crowd to make sure Hermione wasn't amongst them.  
  
- Harry dropped the hand he had been shaking in shock and jerked almost unconsciously backwards, "Tom Riddle?" his voice squeaked unnaturally as the students all turned to stare at him. 


	3. Introducing the Gryffindors

Chapter Three: Introducing the Gryffindors  
  
Harry's first thought upon stepping through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room was that it was exactly the same as he remembered. It was still decorated brightly in the house colors of red and gold. The same paintings decorated the walls and the same furniture sat in roughly the same places.  
  
His second thought was that he would really like to turn and run back out of the room. That didn't look like it would be an option for him, however; he was sandwiched between Padma Patil on one side and Fred and George on the other and they were all pulling him towards the center of the room. It was absolutely packed with people. Clearly, no one had decided to spend his or her evening in the library, a dorm room, or anywhere else, for that matter.   
  
Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas were sitting with a group of boys by the window. One of the boys, who Harry couldn't see clearly, was polishing a broomstick. Katie Bell and a girl Harry didn't recognize were sitting by the fireplace doing each other's nail polish. As he glanced around him, Harry realized that, for all the people who were packed into the common room, he didn't see Hermione anywhere.   
  
"Everyone, listen up!" Padma called out, but her voice was not loud enough to catch the attention of even those nearest to her.  
  
Fred shook his head at her, "Let me do this. I'll show you how it's done." With that, he took a deep breath and gave an ear splitting whistle. Several students covered their ears as everyone quieted and turned to look at him.   
  
"Thank you," Padma rolled her eyes at Fred. "Now," she raised her voice so everyone could hear her, "I have an announcement to make. This," she indicated Harry, who was standing a few feet away by George, "is Harry Potter. He'll be a new student here in Gryffindor, in fifth year..."  
  
"Hey, wait a second!" a voice called out from behind a group of people. For a second it was quiet, then the crowd split open and a tall boy stepped out in front of Harry. It was the boy who had been polishing the broomstick and in a second, Harry realized: it was Neville Longbottom. "What is this?"  
  
"Who is this is a better question," Fred countered. "He's Harry Potter, like Padma just said. New student. Now be nice, shake hands." Neville glared at Fred and turned to Padma.  
  
He seemed to consider her for a second, and then spoke, "What do you mean a new student? In fifth year? Is that even possible?" Then, his eyes narrowed as he got to what was really important to him, "How come I didn't know about this?"  
  
"I didn't know about it either, Neville," she tried to placate him, but he wouldn't have it.  
  
"You bloody well did! You just introduced him!"  
  
Padma rolled her eyes. Harry got the feeling she was used to dealing with outbursts like this from Neville. "I met him in the hallway, right outside the portrait. He was with Fred and George and they didn't know the password. Would you have had me leave them out there so that you might meet him first?"  
  
Neville stared at the group of them for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he sorted out in his head what he wanted to say next. Harry got the idea that he would have liked her to do just as she had said. Finally, he took a step forward, placing himself right in front of Harry, and then turned to look at George. "Why did you know about this? You aren't even a prefect last I checked!"  
  
"Met him on the train," George answered easily, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"The platform, actually," Fred corrected. "At King's Cross. He was lost and all alone. Naturally, dear brother George and I took him under our wing. And I do say he's better for it."  
  
"Sure," Neville snorted.  
  
"All right, all right," another voice interrupted, and suddenly Katie Bell was standing just behind Neville, her brand new red nail polish glinting with the reflection of a nearby candle. "Neville, do calm down. This really isn't something to get upset over. Padma met him first, but you'll be sharing a dormitory with him, I'm sure you'll get to find out all about him." She turned to face Harry, "Harry is it? Harry Potter?" she smiled at him as he nodded, "well, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Katie Bell, head girl, so if there's anything you need to help you feel at home, just let me know, all right?"  
  
Harry nodded quickly with a half smile. So far so good. Everyone, with the possible exception of Neville Longbottom, had been open, accepting, and nice. His confidence was growing when Seamus Finnegan came over to the front of the group with a curious look on his face.  
  
"Which school did you go to before?" he asked. "I mean, mum's always said Hogwarts was the only wizarding school in the UK." Harry froze. All eyes were on him and he didn't know what to say. Even Fred and George seemed to have abandoned him this time; he thought he could hear Fred trying to hold back unsympathetic laughter.  
  
"I..." Harry began. "You won't have heard of it," he finally said, hoping this would satisfy the crowd. He was wrong.  
  
"We might've," Seamus countered. The other Gryffindors seemed to be in agreement with him.  
  
Harry sighed, "Well... you won't have if you think Hogwarts is the only school here, will you? Really, it's just a very small place, I doubt you will have ever even heard its name."  
  
"We..." Seamus began again, but Harry cut him off before he got stuck with another question he didn't know how to answer.  
  
"Where is Hermione? Is she here?"  
  
Neville scoffed disdainfully, "She knows about you, too? She can't remember how to keep a cauldron in one piece or turn a hedgehog into a pincushion, but this she knows?"  
  
"I met her on the train," Harry defended her. It seemed like he would be the only person to do so. "What's wrong with her, why does everyone talk so badly about Hermione?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with her, exactly..." Padma began. "She's really sweet, and all, and her heart's in the right place, it's just..."  
  
"She's a disaster," Parvati supplied, glancing at the crowd to make sure Hermione wasn't amongst them. "Honestly, it's just not safe to be around her, if magic is involved. So we all kind of, you know, steer clear..."  
  
Harry glanced incredulously around at the group of Gryffindors. He had gotten the idea that Hermione wasn't the genius witch he remembered, but this reaction from his housemates was almost too much to believe. After a moment he said, "It's obvious why you aren't Hufflepuffs..."  
  
"What?" Neville asked quickly and Harry realized he had spoken out loud.  
  
"Oh, um," Harry began to clarify, "Hufflepuff is the house for loyal people, right? That's what you said, Fred, George?" he turned to his friends who both nodded their agreement though they could not remember telling him anything of the sort. "Well, she's your housemate! Never mind if she's a 'disaster', as you put it. She's a Gryffindor and you shouldn't treat her like that."  
  
"You'd think she was your girlfriend already, my God," Neville groaned. "Well, she's over there, usually." He pointed past Harry and the crowd split behind him. Sure enough, Hermione could be seen sitting alone on a sofa in the corner. A stack of textbooks was piled on the table in front of her and a parchment notebook lay open in her lap.  
  
Harry glared at Neville for the girlfriend comment and turned away from Fred, George and the others. Hermione didn't look up or acknowledge him in any way as he walked over to her and he arrived at her side unnoticed.   
  
"Can I sit down?"  
  
Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice and her notebook fell from her lap to the floor. "Oh, Harry, I..." she mumbled around a Muggle pen clutched between her teeth. "Yes, of course, sit," she scooted over and made room for him at the edge of the sofa. Harry could feel other peoples' eyes on him as he sat down beside her.  
  
"Surely you don't need to be looking at these already," Harry commented, grabbing the top book from the stack. "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5," he read.   
  
"I need all the help I can get," Hermione countered. "If it means spending my first evening back reading, then I will."  
  
The common room had returned to normal quickly as the Gryffindor students realized Harry wasn't going to tell them anything interesting about himself or his old school. Harry relaxed more in his seat as he began to realize people were for the most part no longer watching him. He could hear Fred and George talking in exaggerated whispers not far away; they were discussing a prank they had pulled off last year, clearly hoping to be congratulated on their past success.  
  
Harry laughed to himself as Hermione scooped her notebook from the floor and set it on the table in front of her. She pulled the pen from her mouth and set it on top. "A Muggle pen?" Harry asked, reaching out to pick it up. He grabbed it with two fingers, and then dropped it immediately, "Ew, it's covered in slobber!"  
  
"It was in my mouth," Hermione laughed, a smile finally crossing her face. "What did you expect?"  
  
Harry wiped his hand across his robes, "I don't know. Less slime, I suppose."  
  
"It's hardly slime," she countered, laughing again.   
  
Suddenly, they were both aware of people staring at them again. Harry didn't look around, but he heard whispers of, "Is Hermione laughing?" and "Has she gotten her nose out of a book long enough to have a friend?"  
  
"Ignore them," Harry muttered, seeing a tear in Hermione's eye. He found it hard to follow this advice himself, though, and was wishing more than ever that he might be able to return to his own world. Before he even realized he was speaking, the words, "You remind me of someone," had slipped from his mouth.  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked with a blush. "Let me guess, a complete failure of a witch, ostracized by her would-be friends in an effort to protect themselves from danger?"  
  
"Nothing of the sort!" Harry exclaimed, his voice a bit louder than he would have liked; again, many Gryffindors glanced in their direction, but quickly returned to their previous activities. Harry was glad he was proving to be generally boring enough that the novelty of his newness didn't require him to remain the center of attention. "You remind me of my best friend. Well, one of my two best friends, that is. The Muggle-born one I mentioned on the train. She's the brightest witch in our year, but she still always has her nose in a book."  
  
Hermione sighed wistfully, "I would never spend all my time reading if I was that bright. I would spend time with people, not textbooks. Maybe then I would have friends."  
  
"Surely..." Harry began, but then realized that, based on the behavior of the other Gryffindors, she might not have any friends. "Well, on the train, Fred and George, they..."  
  
"Oh, sure," Hermione scoffed. "They'll defend me, especially to a Slytherin. Especially, especially to a Weasley or a Malfoy. But friends? Not really. And they're about the nicest. Parvati and Padma... they're my roommates, and we get along, sure. We even have fun together, sometimes. In our dorm room, or Hogsmeade, maybe. But no one wants to be near me when magic is involved. They're all too afraid they might get caught in the way of a spell gone wrong, or an exploding cauldron. I don't blame them, really."  
  
It was a moment before Harry spoke. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. I... well, I hope we can be friends, at least."  
  
She eyed him warily, "Why? Because you feel sorry for me?" When he began to shake his head no, she interceded, "Or because I remind you of your old friend?"  
  
"Because you seem like a nice person," he said decisively. "Because I don't know that I want to be friends with people who would ditch you just because you're not as good at magic as they are. Because I don't know that these people wouldn't like me just because I'm new. You and I could band together, I guess. The outcasts."  
  
Hermione's eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling brightly underneath. "I'd like that. To be friends, I mean. You seem like a nice person, too, Harry. And I hope I can live up to the image of your old friend, the one I remind you of. Just don't not be friends with everyone else because of me."  
  
"Oh I don't think I will," Harry said. "Fred and George did seem nice enough. And Dean and Seamus seemed like they'd be up for some good Quidditch talk any day. I will be rooming with them, after all."  
  
"Quidditch!" Hermione snorted. "Is that all you boys ever think about?"  
  
Harry pretended to look insulted, "I happen to like Quidditch! Played seeker at my old school!"  
  
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione began, but stopped at the sound of his laugh. "You we're joking. You weren't really insulted."  
  
"No, I wasn't."  
  
She nodded, "Okay. But, really, Quidditch is all any of the boys here ever talk about. Hey!" she paused thoughtfully, "you aren't related to that Quidditch player, are you? He's quite famous. I'm not sure what his name is. I mean, Potter, of course, but I don't know what his first name is."  
  
"Dean. Or it was Seamus. One of them, anyway, asked me the same thing," Harry mused. "I don't think I am. No one's ever told me I was related to a famous Quidditch player. The only famous Quidditch player I've ever met is..." and then he stopped short. He was about to say Viktor Krum, but realized he had no way of knowing if the Bulgarian star from his world even existed in this one. "Um, no one, I've never met any Quidditch players." Hermione didn't seem to be buying that, so he changed the subject back to what it had been, "Who does this Potter play for? Is he good?"  
  
Hermione wrinkled her nose in thought, "Um, the Cannons, I think. The Chudley Cannons. And, yes, he's supposed to be quite good. Do you mean you've never even heard of him?"  
  
"I..." Harry stalled, realizing that it didn't make sense for a Quidditch fan not to have heard of such a famous player. "I just... haven't had much time lately to keep up with it, is all."  
  
Harry was saved from having to answer any more questions on the subject by a bright light flashing in his face and momentarily blinding him. As his vision returned to normal, he saw that Hermione had also been hit by the light, and she knew the source. "Colin!" he heard her exclaim.  
  
Sure enough, Colin Creevey stood directly in front of Harry and Hermione, camera clutched tightly in hand, large grin plastered across his face. "Sorry, Hermione, didn't mean to blind you there. Just had to preserve the moment for posterity."  
  
"What moment?" Hermione grumbled, a self-defeating tone creeping back into her voice. "The moment when the near-squib finally gets a friend?" "Well," Colin began, "I was going to say the moment a new boy arrives in fifth year, but yours works, too, I suppose. Although, I think the proper term is near-Muggle, for our sort."  
  
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed.   
  
Colin whirled to look at him. "Oh, sorry," he laughed. "Colin Creevey, nice to meet you."  
  
"Colin's a Muggle born, too," Hermione said to Harry. "That's what he meant by the near-Muggle comment. And he's right. And don't worry, he won't be snapping pictures of you during the night, I don't think."  
  
At Harry's confused expression, Colin laughed again, "I'm a fifth year, too. So we'll be roommates. And Hermione's right, I don't have any strange fetishes that cause me to sneak around photographing my roommates as they sleep."  
  
"You're a fifth year?" Harry squeaked. He was not thrilled at the prospect of sharing a room with any Colin Creevey, even if this one didn't hero-worship him. But, as he thought about it, it made sense. This boy was older than the Colin he remembered, and had clearly grown more than was likely if it had just been a summer since they had seen each other last.  
  
"Absolutely. It's great, isn't it, to finally be one of the older people here? Mind if I sit?" he pushed some of Hermione's books out of the way and perched on the edge of the table. "Already to work, I see, Hermione. You do give it a rest over the summer, don't you?"  
  
"I don't go the entire summer without looking over my books, if that's what you mean," Hermione sounded shocked. "I'd forgot the little I manage to learn if I did that. But," she conceded, "I don't study quite so hard."  
  
Colin laughed, "Even my hard-working Hufflepuff of a brother doesn't work this hard." He paused for a moment. "Has it gotten quiet in here or something?"  
  
Harry and Hermione both looked up then and glanced around the room. Though not entirely empty, it was quickly clearing out. "Wow," Hermione exclaimed, looking at a watch that had been hidden under the sleeve of her robes. "It is getting fairly late, I had no idea. I really ought to be getting to bed."  
  
"Sad as I am to admit it, we all ought to," Colin said. He stood up and pulled out his wand. Before Harry had time to consider what he might be doing with it, he had muttered a few words and Hermione's textbooks were stacking themselves up. A swish of his wand later, and the enormous pile was floating up the staircase towards the girls' dormitories. "Thought you could use some help," he shrugged his shoulders as Hermione blushed. "Well, Harry, how about I show you up to our room?"  
  
Harry nodded his assent, "All right. Well, good night, then, Hermione."  
  
Colin echoed the sentiment and the three parted ways as Harry was led up the familiar staircase towards an all too familiar dorm room.  
  
------------------------  
  
The halls of Hogwarts buzzed with activity the following morning as the Great Hall emptied of the last few stragglers from breakfast. Harry and an assorted bunch of his fellow Gryffindors were among this group. Upon first waking up in the morning, Harry had thought his experience of the day before had been only a dream. His relief had been quickly dashed, however, when he pulled back the curtains of his four-poster bed and was met with the sight of a sleepy Colin Creevey emerging from his own bed.  
  
A hot shower and a stomach full of breakfast had put Harry back into the state of mind to accept the strange new reality he continued to find himself in. As the fifth year Gryffindors walked en masse into the entrance hall, Neville moaned from behind him, "Potions first. Always potions. Honestly, I just don't see the point in taking that class. The time could be put to much better use at Quidditch practice."  
  
"The rest of us might disagree, Neville," Parvati shook her head at him. "You're the only one on the Quidditch team, remember."  
  
"That might change," Neville stuffed his crumpled schedule into his robe pocket. "We do need a new keeper, you know. Haven't been able to find a good one since Wood graduated. We had such a horrible season last year," he clarified for Harry's sake. "Do you play?"  
  
"Seeker," Hermione butted in. "That's right, isn't it?"  
  
Harry nodded, "I do, well, I did. At my old school, I played seeker for Gryf... for my house team."  
  
"See, then, Harry appreciates what I'm trying to say," Neville said as he stepped into a position to lead the rest of the group toward the potion's classroom. "Quidditch is far more useful, in the long run, than potions could ever be."  
  
"Absolutely," Harry nodded. "I mean if your professor is anything like... is Professor Snape the potion's master here, too?"  
  
The group stopped in its tracks as the words slipped out of Harry's mouth. Harry stopped walking, too, and looked back at them, their mouths collectively hanging open as they stared in shock at him. It only took him a second to realize his mistake. "Oh, um..." he tried to force a way out of this situation to present itself to him. "Do you know him?" Neville's voice squeaked with excitement. This was not the reaction Harry was expecting. "Snape? Severus Snape? Do you really know him?"  
  
Harry glanced at the faces around him. Each of them, even Hermione, looked equally excited by this prospect. Harry couldn't begin to imagine what to say to this, but before he could misspeak again, Dean was talking.  
  
"Have you only met him, or do you really know him? Did he teach a class at your old school?" Dean was bouncing slightly on his feet.   
  
"But wouldn't he teach Quidditch?" Padma asked. "That would make more sense than potions, wouldn't it?"  
  
Parvati glanced at her twin and then back to Harry, "Well, maybe it was just a favorite of his at school. We could ask McGonnagall, she probably knows. Wasn't she teaching here when he was in school?"  
  
"Oh I wish I had been here then," Padma sighed.  
  
"Potter was in school with him, too, you know. Apparently they were best mates even then. And now on the best team in England together," Neville was still brimming with excitement. "But, of course, you must know that, Harry. If you know him. Do you think I could meet him sometime, maybe?"  
  
Harry's mind was reeling. He hadn't blown his cover yet, thankfully, but he had still gotten himself into a sticky situation, to say nothing of the fact that the idea of Parvati and Padma getting dreamy over Snape was almost more than he could bear. "I, um, don't know him. Not the Quidditch player, that is. I was thinking of someone else. My, um, my old potions professor knew of another professor named Snape, and I... I thought he might have taught here."  
  
They all seemed to buy his excuse, but Neville, especially, looked quite disappointed in Harry. "Fine, then," he muttered. "Let's get to class." With that, Neville started quickly off down the hallway. The others followed him, but Hermione hung back with Harry.  
  
"He'll get over it," she commented. "But it might take a while. The Cannons are his favorite. It is a shame, though. I mean that you don't know him. Even I would've loved the chance to meet Snape. Or Potter. But I won't hate you for it, don't worry. Come on, class is this way," she grabbed his arm and pulled him in the direction the others had gone.  
  
They soon arrived at the dungeon classroom. The door was only just slipping shut behind the other Gryffindors as Harry and Hermione approached. "The professor is head of Hufflepuff house," Hermione told him as she pushed the door open. "He's usually pretty fair, too, even with my cauldron melting problem..."  
  
"Well, well, well," a voice drawled as they entered the classroom. "If it isn't the candidate for St. Mungo's Mental Ward." Harry didn't have to look to see whom the voice belonged to, but he glanced to his left anyway and saw Ron sitting next to Draco. The red head was smirking at him while Draco laughed out loud. Many of the other Slytherins joined him in his laughter. Harry stiffened at the harsh words coming from someone who looked so like his friend. Hermione seemed to be trying to hide behind him and looked perfectly happy for Harry to remain the target of their taunting.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Neville, suddenly in front of Harry and towering menacingly over the still-seated Ron.  
  
"Hey what?" Ron taunted, standing up. He was now face to face with Neville; their noses were practically touching.  
  
The sound of the door slamming open caught everyone else's attention, but Neville and Ron didn't waver. "Now, now," an adult voice called out, sounding as though this situation was far too routine. A tall, brunette man who looked vaguely familiar to Harry was striding toward the two boys. "Really," he chastised while physically separating them, "is it necessary to start every term with your petty bickering?" He pushed Ron back down into his chair and directed Neville back to his before taking notice of Harry. "Oh, Mr. Potter, is it? Our newcomer, good! Yes, why don't you take a seat?" he motioned towards an empty table at the back of the room.  
  
Harry made his way to the table and motioned for Hermione to join him. She came quickly and slid into the seat beside him, clearly happy to have somebody want to be her potions partner. The professor walked the rest of the way up to his desk and dropped the things he had been carrying on top of it. The class passed a few moments in silence as they watched him prepare for the lesson, and then he turned to face them.  
  
"Welcome, Gryffindors," he smiled. "And welcome Slytherins. Welcome to your fifth year at Hogwarts School..."  
  
"It's Scarhead's first year here," Draco called out.   
  
Without missing a beat, the professor turned to face Harry. "Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Potter. Despite Mr. Malfoy's, shall we say, tactless, way of putting it, this is your first year here, isn't it? And it has slipped my mind, I suppose, that while I know a bit about you, you haven't a clue who I am, have you?" Harry shook his head in agreement with this statement. "Well, we'll have to fix that," the professor strode over to Harry, his hand extended. Harry took the hand in his own and began to shake as the professor said, "I'm Professor Riddle."  
  
Harry's eyes widened, "Professor Riddle?"  
  
"Yes, indeed. Potions master and head of Hufflepuff House. Professor Thomas Riddle."  
  
Harry dropped the hand he had been shaking in shock and jerked almost unconsciously backwards, "Tom Riddle?" his voice squeaked unnaturally as the students all turned to stare at him.  
  
"Yes," the professor's happy persona was shaken by Harry's dramatic reaction. "Do we know each other?" Harry continued to stare back at his new professor in shock. He realized now that the man looked familiar because he was clearly an older version of the young man he met three years ago in the Chamber of Secrets. Nothing Hermione had said in favor of this professor, or even the man's cheerful exterior, could wipe the vision of Lord Voldemort, freshly risen in the graveyard, from Harry's mind.  
  
After a few moments tense silence, Professor Riddle seemed to recognize that he was going to get no response from Harry. He took a moment to compose himself again, and then returned to the front of the classroom to begin his lecture. Harry watched after him in quiet shock as Hermione pulled out her notebook, quill, and ink. He still did not move, so she reached into his bag and retrieved his needed supplies, as well. After she placed them on the desk in front of him, she elbowed him sharply in the ribs.  
  
"Harry!" she hissed. Startled, he glanced at her.  
  
"What? What is it?" his voice was shaky as every memory he had of Voldemort pounded through his head. He could almost hear this professor's voice saying "Kill the spare!"  
  
"Class has started, what's wrong with you?" she nodded her head toward the front of the room and Harry was jerked back to reality. "Anyway, Malfoy and Weasley will only think worse of you after this incident."  
  
Harry glanced at the two offending classmates, and then turned to Hermione. He, like the professor, was beginning to regain his composure. "It's nothing," he shook his head. "Just... Voldemort..."  
  
"Who?" she whispered. "Really, Harry, maybe the Slytherins are right. You do seem a little off today..."  
  
Harry shook his head and turned back to face the teacher. He fumbled to get his notebook open, grabbed a quill, and prepared to take notes on their first potion of the year. Hermione glanced warily at him, but proceeded to do the same.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Four: McGonnagall's Questions  
  
- "Oh?" Parvati grinned at him, the potions project momentarily forgotten. "Do tell, Mr. Potter. Were you quite the troublemaker at your old school? Can we expect similar antics from you now?"  
  
- "Skittles," the headmistress said, and the entrance jumped to life. As they made their way up to her office, McGonnagall turned to Harry, "A Muggle candy I'm particularly fond of, you know. And I do hope that I won't later find you have spread it about the entire school. Hardly a point to a password, is there, if everyone knows what it is."  
  
"Of course not, professor," Harry answered quickly, suppressing a snicker at her sudden similarity to Professor Dumbledore. "I mean, I won't tell anyone, of course."  
  
Professor McGonnagall pushed open her office door and ushered Harry inside. As she shut the door behind them, Harry glanced in awe around himself at the office. It had the exact same structure as Professor Dumbledore's had. 


	4. McGonagall's Questions

Chapter Four: McGonagall's Questions  
  
The library at Hogwarts was surprisingly full of people for the first week of school. After overcoming his initial shock at finding out who the Potions professor was, Harry had found the man to be quite a good teacher. The class spent the first day reviewing several potions that Harry had not learned before and were then split into groups to work on a special project.  
  
The Potions project was, Harry assumed, the reason he saw so many fifth year students in the library. It was certainly the reason he was there, with Hermione, at a table towards the front. They were each poring through different books about Potions.  
  
"I think this is the right one." Parvati appeared at the table and dropped a large book in between them. Dusting off her hands, she slid into a chair next to Hermione, who was sitting directly across from Harry.   
  
"Moste Potente Potions?" Harry read from the dusty cover. "Shouldn't this be in the Restricted section or something?"  
  
"You'd think," Parvati answered, flipping open the tome. "But it was right over there, with the other potions books. Honestly, if some of these potions got into the wrong hands... Polyjuice potion, for example," she pointed to the page in front of her, "I mean, you could sneak anywhere you wanted..."  
  
Harry laughed at that, but stopped short when he noticed Hermione and Parvati looking at him. "Oh, just... you know, memories..."  
  
"You've done that, haven't you?" There was a gleam in Parvati's eyes as she stared at Harry. "I wouldn't have thought you had it in you, Harry. You seem so innocent and... boring."  
  
"Well, thanks a lot."  
  
Parvati blushed. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I just wouldn't have thought you the type to get into any trouble, that's all."  
  
"You have no idea." Harry grimaced, thinking of all the scrapes he had gotten himself into in the past.   
  
"Oh?" Parvati grinned, the Potions project momentarily forgotten. "Do tell, Mr. Potter. Were you quite the troublemaker at your old school? Can we expect similar antics from you now?"  
  
A loud sneeze from Hermione stopped him from answering Parvati. Harry turned to Hermione, who still had her nose buried in the dusty potions book, "Bless you."  
  
At the sound of his voice, she looked up and blushed. "Oh, thanks."  
  
"Finding anything useful?" Parvati asked her.  
  
"Not too much," she sighed, dropping the book back to the table with a thud. "Never mind that I'm completely useless at making potions, I can't even seem to research them properly."  
  
"Who can, in this kind of book?" Parvati sympathized, with a disgusted nod towards the old book Hermione was flipping through. "Except Neville, of course, who could find anything in any book if he would ever get his mind off of Quidditch."  
  
Harry chuckled at that. "Well, where is he, anyway? He is a member of our group, and if he's so good at this, he ought to be helping out."  
  
Parvati rolled her eyes and Hermione huffed her obvious disapproval at the situation. Harry glanced between the two of them, confused, until finally Parvati clarified, "Off flirting, as always. If it's not Quidditch, it's a girl. Honestly, he's useless. How he got to be prefect..."  
  
"He got to be prefect because he has the best marks in our year," Hermione said. "But really, I don't know what girls see in him. He isn't even very attractive."  
  
Parvati nodded her agreement. "He really doesn't have that great a body. I mean, you'd think with all that Quidditch... But Cho Chang seems to like him enough. He's with her now, I believe."  
  
"She's a sixth year Ravenclaw," Hermione told Harry.  
  
Harry nodded his understanding while resisting the urge to laugh at the idea of Neville Longbottom as a ladies' man, but before he could say anything more, the group was disturbed by the sound of the nearby library door banging open. Harry turned in his seat and he, Hermione, and Parvati watched as Professor McGonagall strode into the library and surveyed it quickly with her eyes. After a moment, her gaze settled on him and she came quickly to their table.  
  
"Good afternoon," the Headmistress said from the end of the table by Harry.  
  
"Afternoon, Professor," Parvati said with a smile, shutting the thick potions book in front of her. "Can we help you with anything?"  
  
Professor McGonagall smiled back, but her attention was really on Harry. "Yes, Miss Patil, actually I was hoping for a word with Mr. Potter. I hope everything is going well for you, Harry, and that you are getting settled all right?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said with a nod, "everything has been good so far."  
  
"Good," she said. A more serious expression came over her face. "I can see that you three are hard at work, but if you have a moment, Mr. Potter, I would like to have a word with you in private."  
  
Harry glanced across at the two girls and then turned back to Professor McGonagall. "Um, yes, of course. I mean," he glanced back at Hermione and Parvati, "if you two can do okay without me for a while..."  
  
"Oh, sure," Parvati waved her hand at him. "Ditch us, of course. We did fine before you appeared at this school, we'll do fine a little longer without you. At least you've got a better excuse than Neville..."  
  
McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Where is Mr. Longbottom? Is he supposed to be part of your group?"  
  
"He'll be along!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide. "He just had to..."  
  
"...meet with someone!" Parvati finished for her.  
  
Professor McGonagall didn't look like she believed either of them, but she didn't seem to care enough to question them any further. With a quick nod to the girls, she motioned for Harry to follow her. He picked up his things from the table, stuffed them into his bag, and hurried quickly after the headmistress.  
  
"I'm glad to see you are making friends here," McGonagall said as soon as she and Harry were out of hearing range of the others. "Though I must impress upon you the seriousness of your situation. No matter how close you become with the other students, you must not tell them anything out of the ordinary."  
  
Harry nodded quickly. "I understand. I don't want to cause any trouble. Have you found anything out about how I got here?"  
  
"It has hardly been long enough, Potter," Professor McGonagall glanced at him as she led the boy through the halls. "We are doing everything we can, but I assure you, this isn't a question that has ever really been looked into before."  
  
Harry nodded again as they turned a corner together. A bit of movement caught his eye, and he glanced over to the side in time to see Neville Longbottom pull a girl behind a suit of armor and out of range of Professor McGonagall's eyes. He needn't have bothered, as the Headmistress never glanced in their direction.   
  
Harry held back a laugh as he briefly caught Neville's eye and then came to a quick stop behind the professor, who had stopped short, herself, right in front of him. Harry looked at the wall in front of them and realized he was outside the entrance to what had been Professor Dumbledore's office the last time he had been in it.  
  
"Skittles," the Headmistress said, and the entrance jumped to life. As they made their way up to her office, McGonagall turned to Harry, "A Muggle candy I'm particularly fond of, you know. And I do hope that I won't later find you have spread it about the entire school. Hardly a point to a password, is there, if everyone knows what it is."  
  
"Of course not, professor," Harry answered quickly, suppressing a snicker at her sudden similarity to Professor Dumbledore. "I mean, I won't tell anyone, of course."  
  
Professor McGonagall pushed open her office door and ushered Harry inside. As she shut the door behind them, Harry glanced in awe around himself at the office. It had the exact same structure as Professor Dumbledore's had; Harry guessed that probably wasn't too strange, as the entire castle seemed to be built the same way the one he remembered had. McGonagall's desk also seemed to be in the same place Harry remembered it should be, but that was the end of the similarities between the two rooms.  
  
A fairly large calico cat was lounging on a pile of pillows in one corner. Its eyes watched Harry warily as he walked into the room, but it seemed more interested in licking its front paw than in him. A few pictures covered the walls. Harry thought they all looked like they might be family portraits. A picture window behind the desk looked over the Quidditch pitch, and the remainder of the walls was covered in bookshelves packed full of dusty, old books. A display case in the opposite corner to the cat's bed held the battered old sorting hat amid assorted other trinkets.  
  
Harry slid into the chair facing Professor McGonagall's desk as the Headmistress ran her hand affectionately over the cat's head before sitting down across from him. She had hardly been seated a moment before the cat leapt up and onto her lap, running its tail over her nose.  
  
"This is Pandora." McGonagall motioned to the cat now purring contentedly in her lap. "A beautiful girl, but full of trouble."  
  
Harry smiled and reached a hand to pet the cat, but quickly pulled his fingers out of harms way as Pandora hissed at him, displaying a mouthful of sharp teeth.  
  
"Not the most friendly sort, I suppose," Professor McGonagall chuckled. "Not with strangers, at least. But, anyway, we haven't come here to discuss her, have we?"  
  
Harry shook his head no. Professor McGonagall didn't say anything else immediately, so Harry glanced around him again. "Professor Dumbledore had a pet phoenix, Fawkes..." he commented offhandedly.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Oh," Harry began. "My... other... Headmaster. He had his office in this room, too, but it was nothing at all like this."  
  
McGonagall's brow wrinkled in interest, "Did you spend a lot of time in his office?" At Harry's uncomfortable expression, she waved the question off with, "Never mind, I'm not sure I want to know. Do you know, I do seem to vaguely remember hearing something of a wizard called Dumbledore..." She looked thoughtful. "Oh well, that's hardly relevant at the moment, is it? We really had better get down to business. I don't want to keep you from your schoolwork any longer than possible."  
  
Harry nodded slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to do.  
  
"No enthusiasm to get right back to your work, I see. You will find the workload here to be rigorous. I don't know what you are used to. Which," she looked directly at Harry, "brings me to my point. I know hardly anything about you at all. We didn't get to speak much at the feast, and it is essential that we do. If there is to be any hope for getting you home, I must know exactly how you got here in the first place." She raised an eyebrow. "Assuming you do want to get home, that is?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"All right," the headmistress continued. "Why don't we start with you telling me everything you can remember about how you ended up here, in our world?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath. Pandora was purring loudly from her spot; all Harry could see of the cat was her tail, flicking back and forth across Professor McGonagall's face. After a second, Harry began, "Well, as I said, I went to King's Cross Station, to catch the Express, like every year. I met up with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny, that is. And Hermione..."  
  
"Granger?" McGonagall interrupted him.  
  
"Yes." Harry nodded. "Hermione Granger. She, Ron, and I are best friends. Well, we are in my other world, anyway. We have been since first year, and the thing with the..." Harry glanced up at Professor McGonagall's inquisitive expression, "the... troll..."  
  
Professor McGonagall gave a short laugh. "The troll, Mr. Potter? Since meeting you, I have heard of a troll, a flying car, and apparently frequent visits to the Headmaster's office. I'm beginning to wonder if keeping you around here isn't more trouble than it is worth."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "But, Professor..."  
  
"Oh, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress chastised lightly, "I'm joking, of course. Even if I was to find that you were a great deal of trouble, there's hardly anything else to be done with you that I know of. Of course you are welcome here at Hogwarts. Until we have solved the dilemma of how to get you home, that is."  
  
"I don't mean for it to happen, Professor." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Trouble just seems to find me. It has all my life."  
  
"And I'm not here to criticize you for it at the moment, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "But, right now, we do need to discuss this most recent trouble of how you ended up here. I think we can all say with a fair degree of certainty that it was not, in fact, a prank played by the Symmons twins?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "No, professor. I don't even see how they could've, really. I mean, to charm the barrier like that, wouldn't it have taken some really powerful magic?"  
  
Professor McGonagall shook her head in thought, running her hand absentmindedly over the back of her cat. "I cannot imagine any magic that would have been able to do that. I certainly have never come across any such spell. Not that I have a better explanation for what happened, mind you." She shook her head again. "Now, back to your story, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Right," Harry nodded, taking another breath. "Well, Fred and George, Ginny, and Hermione had all gone onto the platform. So I went. But then I didn't. The barrier didn't let me through, simple as that."  
  
"Did you notice anything unusual about your surroundings as you were unable to get through?" the Headmistress queried.  
  
Harry thought about it for a second. After a moment of silence, he shook his head, "I was concentrating on the barrier. I didn't notice anything unusual until I turned back and Ron and Mrs. Weasley were gone."  
  
"And you know nothing else about what happened?"  
  
"No, professor," Harry answered. "I mean, I tried again, and I got through. And everyone was different. And now I'm here."  
  
Professor McGonagall nodded, lost in thought. Her eyes drifted from Harry and focused on a bookshelf across the room, though Harry was pretty sure she wasn't actually seeing anything but her thoughts. Pandora leapt from McGonagall's lap to the desk and trotted over to Harry. Harry watched the cat cautiously, but Pandora seemed to be in a friendlier mood now. After a moment of sniffing at him, the cat stuck her head out to be petted. Harry complied and soon the cat was settled comfortably in front of him.  
  
Harry had almost forgotten that he was not alone in the room when Professor McGonagall spoke again. She still seemed to be mostly lost in thought as she said, "Thank you, Mr. Potter. I will be looking into this further, of course. Professor Black will be doing the same. In fact, we may have to enlist his wife's services - she's a historian, you see. If anything like this has ever happened before, she'd be the one to know. For the time being, however," she continued, "I see no other reasonable alternative than for you to continue on as you have here. Assuming you are all right with that?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Harry nodded.  
  
"Then I suggest you get back to the library and back to your work," she dismissed him. Harry grabbed his bag and hurried from his seat. "Oh, and Harry," she stopped him. "You should find, in the next few days, a new set of textbooks in your dormitory."  
  
"New textbooks?"  
  
"New textbooks, Mr. Potter. I daresay yours might be a bit different than ours." She glanced over her glasses at him. "Your history books, for example?"  
  
Harry nodded quickly. "Of course, professor. I hadn't thought of that. I should just, umm, keep my old books stored in my trunk, then?"  
  
"I do think that would be for the best. We don't want them stirring up any trouble here," Professor McGonagall said. Harry nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder and turned for the door. Pandora hissed at him again as he left, but then she turned back to Professor McGonagall.   
  
The Headmistress's voice stopped Harry once more as he pushed the door open. "Potter." He turned to face her. "Do be wise when choosing your friends here. I cannot say I am entirely impressed with some of the families you have chosen to associate with, in you former world."  
  
Harry looked down and nodded slowly, "But the Weasleys... they were different before..."  
  
Professor McGonagall didn't respond, so Harry left the room. He pushed the door securely behind him and made his way down the staircase and away from the Headmistress's office.  
  
The hallway was empty as Harry made his way back towards the library and his Potions project. He was in no real hurry to get there; he would much rather have thought more on what Professor McGonagall had said. He had hoped that she would have found out how to return him home already. Harry sighed as he realized just how much he really did miss his old world and his old friends.   
  
A group of girls in Ravenclaw robes passed Harry as he made his way down a staircase. It took him a second to register that Cho Chang was among them. He glanced after her for a second, but she made no notice of him.  
  
Before he realized he had walked far at all, Harry found himself outside the library doors.  
  
Harry pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside. Hermione and Parvati were seated at the same table as before, but now Neville Longbottom was with them. They appeared to be packing up their supplies. Harry hurried over to them.  
  
"Potter!" Neville exclaimed. "So nice of you to join us. In trouble with the Headmistress already?"  
  
"No." Harry shook his head as he watched Hermione load several large books into her book-bag. "She just wanted to check that I was settling in all right. Make sure I was finding my way around the school. That sort of thing."  
  
Parvati grinned over at him. "All right, then." She motioned at the table as she, too, stuffed a couple of books in her bag. "In your absence, we have completed the research bit of our project. Now we just have to write it up. Turns out Neville's, ahem, flirtation with Cho Chang wasn't such a horrid thing after all."  
  
Harry turned, confused, to look at the other boy, who was grinning. "Her group had the same project last year. She's a sixth year, you know. I was able to... persuade... her to tell me what books we should look in."  
  
"Great," Harry laughed. He heard Hermione snort with disgust at Neville's actions and had to laugh again.   
  
"Well," Neville began, "since we've gotten finished so early and we have so much free time on our hands, why don't you," -he pointed at Harry- "show me if you're any good on a broomstick."  
  
"Not Quidditch," Hermione moaned as Harry nodded his approval at the suggestion.  
  
Neville smiled. "Good. Since Harry and I will be heading out to the Quidditch arena," he spoke to the girls, "how about you lovely ladies taking our books back to the dormitory?"  
  
"How about we not?" Parvati responded. "You want your things back in the dorm, you get them there yourselves. You can go play Quidditch after." With that, she walked off towards the library exit. Neville hurried after her, pleading his case for her to carry his books.  
  
Hermione and Harry laughed at the two of them and then started off in the same direction themselves. The four students made their way, talking and laughing, through the near empty hallways back to the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Five: 'The Invisibility Cloak'  
  
- A tentative smile came over Hermione's face, "So you're not upset with me?"  
  
"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "Hermione, you're probably my best friend here. I couldn't be mad at you. Well," he clarified, "I probably could, but not over something silly like that!"  
  
"Okay, then," Hermione smiled more brightly than she had before. "I was just so afraid I was going to offend you..." she trailed off.  
  
- "Harry!" she hissed once they were safely outside. "Tell me what is going on. What is that?"  
  
"This," Harry grinned and shook the cloak out in front of him, "This is an invisibility cloak."  
  
- After only a few steps, Harry fell to the floor with a thud. He heard a grunt from Hermione's direction and looked back to see her sprawled in a similar position to his. The invisibility cloak lay abandoned between them. Harry glanced dreadfully towards the portrait of Slytherin and was surprised to see that the founder was laughing at them. He didn't seem upset to see the two students out of their dorm, though Harry thought he could hear the founder muttering something that sounded a lot like, "Stupid Gryffindors." 


	5. The Invisibility Cloak

Chapter Five: 'The Invisibility Cloak'  
  
Harry squinted down at the copy of 'Standard Book of Spells: Grade Five' lying on the common room table in front of him. He had been delighted to learn that, upon attending Professor Flitwick's class, they would be studying the Summoning Charm to start off the year. The classes at this Hogwarts moved at such a fast pace that the fifth years here were far beyond what the fifth year curriculum at the other Hogwarts had been . It had been a nice treat for Harry to find himself up to speed in Charms. Of course, he thought to himself, had it not been for the Triwizard Tournament, he most likely would not have mastered it at all.  
  
"Funny," he muttered to himself, "never would've thought anything good..." but then he stopped short and glanced across the table at Hermione, who was no longer bent over her own textbook, but now watching him.  
  
"Never would have thought what?" she asked.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Oh, nothing." She wasn't buying it, so he continued. "I just had to learn this charm under... stressful... circumstances, and I never thought anything good would've come of the whole thing."  
  
"Oh." She nodded. "Well, I've been having trouble with it. Maybe you could help me?"  
  
Harry smiled to himself at the irony of the situation. His memories were only too clear of the year before when Hermione had spent much of her free time teaching him the charm. "Of course," he answered. "I'd be glad to help."  
  
"Thanks." She smiled. A thoughtful look came over her face as she watched Harry. After a moment, she spoke, "Can I say something... and I mean it in the nicest way possible, though it might not sound good..."  
  
"Sure," Harry agreed, bewildered as to what she might have to say.  
  
"Well," she began slowly. "I was kind of glad when, you know, in classes, when you were sort of behind everyone else. You know, when you didn't know all the spells or potions or whatever." She shrugged. "I mean, it was nice, for once, not to be the only one who couldn't do it. I'm sorry," she muttered, "I know that's horrible."  
  
Harry burst out laughing. A few students in the common room glanced over at the two of them and Hermione looked horrified that she had truly offended him. "Hermione," Harry began, trying to stop himself from laughing, "that's not horrible. I mean, maybe it's not so nice to tell someone you hope they're always a failure, but, really, I know how you feel. It's pretty horrible to be singled out, whether it's because you're particularly good or particularly bad."  
  
A tentative smile came over Hermione's face. "So you're not upset with me?"  
  
"Of course not!" Harry exclaimed. "Hermione, you're probably my best friend here. I couldn't be mad at you. Well," he clarified, "I probably could, but not over something silly like that!"  
  
"Okay, then." Hermione smiled more brightly than she had before. "I was just so afraid I was going to offend you..." she trailed off.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Not at all. And I will help you with the Summoning Charm, whenever you want, but right now I think we should take a break." He shoved his spell book across the table and away from him and snapped his parchment notebook closed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"A break." Harry grinned. "A noun meaning a short, or not-so-short, as the case may be, bit of time off from work."  
  
"I know what a break is, Harry." She scowled at him. "I've just..."  
  
"Never taken one before?" he interrupted with a laugh.  
  
She flushed bright red. "I have, too! I just don't think now is the time for a break. We do have to get this work done, you know, Harry. And, more than that, it would be helpful if I actually learned how to do this Summoning Charm."  
  
"All right," Harry began. "I'll make you a deal. We take a break, just an hour or so, and I'll spend the rest of the evening teaching you the Summoning Charm. Deal?"  
  
Harry watched as Hermione thought it over for a few minutes. He could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she weighed her options. Finally, she nodded. "All right. Fine. We take a break. What is it you had in mind that we do on this break? Nothing to get us in trouble, I hope."  
  
Harry leaned back in thought. He had decided he needed a break but didn't take the time to think of what they would do with the break. He glanced around the room and saw Neville Longbottom sitting with a group of younger girls around him. The prefect's feet were propped up on the table in front of him, and a pair of socks with dancing golden snitches peeked out from the gap left between his robes and his shoes. An idea dawned on Harry, and he muttered "Dobby" under his breath.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked. He smiled at her, a plan forming in his head.  
  
"There's a kitchen here, right?" he asked. She nodded, a confused expression on her face. "Well, house elves work in it, right?" Hermione nodded, looking quite confused by this point. "Well, then, why don't we go and, you know, find it!"  
  
"Harry!" she hissed. "We're meant to be staying in the common room, you know. Or up in our dormitories, not wandering about the castle."  
  
"Oh, come on." Harry couldn't resist teasing her just a little bit. "You don't want to be a stick in the mud, do you? I bet you've never snuck out of here." The expression on her face made it clear that his assumption was correct. "Well, come on then, it'll be fun."  
  
She wrinkled her nose. "To see house elves?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
She looked suspiciously at him. He decided at that moment that this Hermione had clearly never thought once about house-elf liberation. She didn't respond, so finally he elaborated, "I knew a house elf at my old school. We were friends, of a sort. I just... I like the little guys. Come on, Hermione. Let's just go see them, all right? And then we come back here and start on the summoning charms. Or... we could practice there. I could teach you to summon house elves."  
  
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "That's horrible!" He could see a bit of the Hermione he knew sparkle in her eyes at this exclamation, but he could also see that she was beginning to give in. "How do you know we won't get caught?"  
  
Harry jumped immediately from his seat. "I'll be right back!" he called to her and dashed up the stairs towards his dormitory. Hermione sat, stunned, watching the path he had disappeared up. Moments later, he was back, a shimmering cloak clutched in his hands.  
  
"What's that?" she asked.   
  
"Not here," he shushed her. "Come with me. Leave the books, we'll be back." With that, he grabbed hold of her hand, pulled her from her seat, and dragged her behind him and out the portrait hole, into the hallway.  
  
"Harry!" she hissed once they were safely outside. "Tell me what is going on. What is that?"  
  
Harry grinned and shook the cloak out in front of him. "This is an invisibility cloak."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. She glanced from the cloak to Harry and back again. Tentatively, she stuck a hand out and fingered the material. "But... I thought these were just legend. I've read about them somewhere, I'm sure of it."  
  
"Well, they're not common," Harry conceded, realizing he knew nothing about the availability of invisibility cloaks in this world. For all he knew, they might not exist here. Shrugging that off as he had already told her about it, he swung it over the two of them and pulled it closed. "Inherited it from my dad. This is how I know we won't get caught."  
  
Harry realized happily that Hermione seemed to trust him, so they started walking. After passing a few moments in silence, he turned to her. "We can talk still, you know."  
  
"It's soundproof?" she asked.  
  
"Well, no," Harry answered. "But I don't see anyone around to hear us. Just keep quiet and if you see or hear someone coming, shut up."  
  
Hermione nodded. "All right." She paused and glanced over at Harry as they made their way down the empty hallway. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Well," she whispered, "it just seems that you have a lot of... weird... things. I mean, this, first of all. I don't know of anyone else who has ever had an invisibility cloak. Honestly, I thought they were just legend. And then your broom. What model did you say it was?"  
  
"Firebolt."  
  
"Right," she continued. "Well, I don't know too much about broomsticks, but if Neville Longbottom says he hasn't heard of it, then..." she trailed off.  
  
Harry gulped. He had been hoping Neville wouldn't have gone spreading rumors about the broomstick after they had flown together the other day. "Well, it's a, a, um, prototype, you know. I have... connections, and all that."  
  
Hermione eyed him. He could tell she wasn't sure if she should believe him or not. They passed a few wary moments in silence, standing still in front of a painting that looked a good deal like Salazar Slytherin. Luckily, the founder appeared to be asleep. Finally, Hermione said, "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Anyways, Neville was probably just upset that you had a better broom than him. You flew circles around him, or so I heard."  
  
"Yeah." Harry had to smile at the memory of watching Neville's smug smile disappear. Harry's Firebolt had been several times faster than Neville's Nimbus 2002, a state-of-the-art model in this world. Harry had been even happier to learn, though, that he was more adept on a broomstick than the boastful prefect was. He got the feeling he could have gotten Neville's inferior broomstick to perform better than the other boy could. Shaking the smile from his face, Harry turned back to Hermione. "You could have come and watched, you know."  
  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, you know, Quidditch isn't really my thing."  
  
"You went back to the library and studied, didn't you?"  
  
Hermione blushed, but before she could say anything, a male voice appeared out of nowhere. "Who's there?" it demanded. "Identify yourself!"  
  
Hermione and Harry both froze and Harry glanced in front of them. The man in the portrait, who was definitely Slytherin, was now very much awake. His eyes were darting around the hallway in an urgent search for the voices he had just heard.  
  
"Oh no!" Hermione gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.  
  
Harry was panicking a bit himself. McGonagall had trusted him when she had no good reason to, but if he was caught out in the hallways, she might rethink that. "Run!" he whispered back to Hermione. For a moment, they both stared in shock at the portrait, and then, in unison, they set off down the hallway at a run.  
  
Unfortunately, they set off in opposite directions.   
  
After only a few steps, Harry fell to the floor with a thud. He heard a grunt from Hermione's direction and looked back to see her sprawled in a similar position to his. The invisibility cloak lay abandoned between them. Harry glanced towards the portrait of Slytherin, a feeling of dread growing in his stomach, and was surprised to see that the founder was laughing at them. He didn't seem upset to see the two students out of their dorm, though Harry thought he could hear the portrait muttering something that sounded an awful lot like "Stupid Gryffindors."  
  
Harry's relief was short-lived, however. Slytherin may not have decided to rat them out, but a portrait down the hall didn't seem to share these sentiments. A shrill woman's voice was bellowing, "Students out of bed! Students out of bed!"  
  
Harry was barely thinking rationally. He could just imagine McGonagall telling him she had been wrong to trust him and kicking him out on the street. He crawled towards Hermione and was just reaching for the invisibility cloak, intending to recover the two of them, when his hand froze. He could hear footsteps echoing ever closer.  
  
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," he could hear Hermione whispering as he stood up and pulled her to her feet as well.  
  
"I'd run if I were you." Slytherin chuckled at the two students. "He may be a Squib, but that man sure gets here fast. Oops." The portrait chuckled again, a broad smile on his face. "Too late."  
  
In a moment of fear, Harry stuffed the cloak into his robe pocket. He was still struggling to fit it all in when the footsteps came close enough that he knew the person making them was now in the same hallway.  
  
Hermione huddled behind Harry as he turned with dread in the direction of the footsteps. Hearing the word Squib, he fully expected to see Filch at the end of the hallway, but was in almost equal proportions horrified and thrilled at who he did see.  
  
A grown man, shorter than Harry and even Hermione, stood in the shadows at the end of the hallway. He glared at the two students for a moment and then strode forward and Harry knew for certain that this was who he thought it was. A thin rat with mangy hair clung to the man's shoulder and Harry was certain he could see what looked like claw marks across the man's baldhead. It was all Harry could do not to laugh as he turned back to Slytherin. "Squib, you said?" The portrait nodded with an evil smile, but said nothing as the man had just stepped into hearing range.  
  
Harry turned back to him and suppressed a laugh as he questioned, "Pettigrew?"  
  
"What of it?" Peter Pettigrew, whom Harry assumed was the caretaker, as Filch had been, growled back at him. Hermione whimpered from behind Harry. "Well, well, well," he snarled at them, though his diminutive stature made him a wholly unimposing figure, in Harry's view. "If it isn't the new boy. In trouble already. The first transfer student ever, and Professor McGonagall was so certain you were a good idea. My, my, how disappointed she will be."  
  
Harry didn't know quite what to say to this. In many ways, Pettigrew's words echoed his own feelings. But Harry was still concentrating on not laughing at this man. It seemed, to him, almost poetic justice that the man who was responsible for so much evil in another world, was condemned in this one to what was considered the biggest disgrace among wizards.   
  
Pettigrew cackled nastily to himself as Harry stood silently in front of him. The man's unfriendly nature was making Harry feel less and less amused by this situation. His first reaction had been to laugh, but as the Squib stood cackling in front of him, he began to feel hatred building towards this man. He was beginning to worry that, if left alone with him too long, he might feel the need to take revenge on this man for what the other Pettigrew had done.  
  
Luckily, Harry was saved from having to say anything to the caretaker by the sound of someone whistling happily and walking ever nearer to the two students and one caretaker. Just as Pettigrew's footsteps had come quickly closer, so too did this whistling. Harry held his breath in the hope that it would turn out to be someone who would be on his side. The group waited in silence a moment, and then the person appeared.  
  
Professor Riddle came up the hallway behind Pettigrew, and stopped his whistling at the sight of the group. "Oh, hello," he greeted the crowd of them. Then his eyes narrowed at Harry and Hermione. "Shouldn't you two be in your common room?"  
  
"They were wandering the hallways, Professor," Pettigrew growled. Riddle glanced over at the smaller man and Harry was amused to see that he looked disgusted at the caretaker. Harry's initial shock at seeing Pettigrew was fading, and he was beginning to feel disgusted toward the man, as well.  
  
"Right, then." Riddle nodded. "Well, thank you, Mr. Pettigrew, for collecting them. But I think I will deal with these students now, if you don't mind."  
  
Pettigrew glanced over at the two students and, after a second, nodded his head. "Fine by me," he muttered. "I have better things to do, anyway." With that, he turned off and headed back the way he came, stroking the rat on his shoulder as he went.  
  
Harry for a moment let himself feel relief at the retreating form of the Squib caretaker, but that feeling came to an abrupt end when he realized that he and Hermione had been left alone with Tom Riddle. No matter what anyone had told him about the Potions professor, he couldn't bring himself to trust the man.  
  
Hermione, on the other hand, looked positively delighted to see Pettigrew go and was no longer cowering behind Harry.  
  
"Right, then, come along." Riddle signaled to the two students and started off in the opposite direction from Pettigrew. Harry stood stock still, but Hermione started to follow him. After a moment, she glanced back at Harry and saw that he was not moving. She stopped walking and went back over to Harry as the professor continued down the hallway.  
  
"Well, come on, Harry, don't just stand there," she whispered to him.  
  
"What?" Harry looked shocked, "You expect me to go with him?" he motioned towards Riddle's back.  
  
Hermione huffed with impatience, "You need to get over whatever this is you have against him. I mean, I don't want to get into trouble anymore than the next person, but, honestly, this is about as lucky as we can get. I mean, to get caught by Riddle! He's a Hufflepuff, for God's sake, they don't do evil things."  
  
Harry snorted his disbelief at this and Hermione rolled her eyes.   
  
"Are you two coming?" They heard Riddle's voice and looked up to see him waiting at the end of the hallway.  
  
"Yes, Professor," Hermione called and seized hold of Harry's arm. Just as he had dragged her out of the Gryffindor common room, he now felt himself being pulled by her after the professor. He thought for a moment about digging his heels in and refusing to go, but, deciding that was a bit immature, finally allowed himself to be pulled along.  
  
It was a surprisingly short walk to Professor Riddle's office. Harry fully expected it to be down in the dungeons, as Professor Snape's was, but Riddle led the two students down to the first floor and into a room not far from the Great Hall.  
  
If the location was different, the contents hardly were. Riddle's office was chock-full of bottles of odd-looking liquids, creatures, and bits of creatures. Every surface not being used for something else seemed to house a bottle or two, and a couple of cauldrons were sitting off to the side. One appeared to be in use; it was simmering softly and a light aroma wafted from it over to the trio.  
  
"Oh, my!" Riddle exclaimed, hurrying over to the cauldron. "I completely forgot I had started this off. My, my," he peered into the cauldron, "completely ruined now." With a shrug of his shoulders, Riddle cast a cooling spell on the cauldron and dumped its contents down a nearby sink. This task completed, he motioned for Harry and Hermione to sit down at the two chairs facing his desk.  
  
"Now." Riddle dusted off his hands and sat down on the side of the desk opposite the students. "I'm really most surprised at you Hermione. Wandering in the corridors at night!"  
  
Hermione looked down at her hands, but Harry got the feeling she actually wasn't as ashamed as she pretended to be. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said.  
  
"I believe you are," he responded and then turned to Harry, who shrank back in his chair. "Mr. Potter." He looked curiously at him. "You do try to avoid me, don't you? Quite like I was a Dark wizard. I don't know quite what I have done to get on your bad side, but I do hope we can reconcile it. However," he said, "today does not look to be the day for that, as I must be the disciplinarian. And I must know, what were the two of you doing out in the hallways?"  
  
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. Neither of them spoke as Riddle continued to look imploringly at them. Multitudes of possible explanation flew through Harry's mind, but none of them seemed right. He had no idea what Hermione was thinking until she spoke. "We were going to the kitchens, professor."  
  
"Oh?" Riddle raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes. To see the house elves," Hermione continued. It was brilliant, Harry thought, to use the truth as their excuse. Hermione was still talking, as Harry silently thanked her for seeing the obvious answer to their problems, and one that didn't blow his cover story. "You see, Harry was friends with some of the house elves at his old school, and he wanted to meet the ones that work here."  
  
Riddle smiled at the two students and leaned back in his chair. Though the professor looked friendly, Harry felt the need to scoot his chair back from the desk. What Riddle said next surprised him. "I always have been a bit fond of house elves myself. It's horrid, really, the way they are treated by most of wizard kind."  
  
"I agree!" Hermione exclaimed, and then quieted quickly, as she realized that she had spoken without prompting to a professor. Harry figured it was probably the first time she had ever done so. After a moment she seemed to regain her confidence, and spoke again, "It's really a pity nobody sticks up for them, you know."  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh at that statement. He decided he would have to be careful never to mention S.P.E.W. to her, lest she got the idea to take it up as her own cause. He stopped laughing quickly, however, when he saw that Riddle and Hermione were staring at him. "Oh, sorry." He waved them off. "Just thinking of... something... else..."  
  
"Right." Riddle nodded. He watched Harry suspiciously, but said nothing more about it. "Well, then, down to business. Mr. Potter, I know you are new to this school, but surely you have ascertained that wandering in the corridors after hours is against the rules?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Riddle nodded again. "And I know you are aware of that, Ms. Granger. House elves or no house elves, the two of you should not have been in the hallways. You should have been in the Gryffindor common room studying. Or in your dormitories getting your beauty sleep." He winked at them with a smile.  
  
"Of course, professor," Hermione answered while Harry nodded vigorously.  
  
"Well, then." Riddle stood up and looked down at them, "I will send you on your way. You are to go directly back to Gryffindor tower, making no stops along the way. And ten points will be taken from your house."  
  
Harry's jaw dropped. Hermione nodded quickly and jumped up, but Harry stayed rooted to his seat in shock. He had been fully expecting to lose many more points and get a detention, on top of that. "Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Professor Riddle asked.  
  
"He's fine," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry, Summoning Charms, remember?"  
  
Harry looked up at her and seemed to spring back to life. "Right. Okay." He stood up and followed Hermione to the office door. He stopped and glanced back at the Potions professor. "Thank you sir," he said and the two students hurried out the door.  
  
They walked a good ways down the hallway in silence, Harry drifting behind Hermione, lost in thought. As they reached the staircase and began to climb, he finally said, "Only ten points?"  
  
"I told you he wasn't a bad guy," she said, stopping and turning to face Harry. "What did you expect, really?"  
  
Harry shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I don't know. More than ten points. And a few detentions, at least."  
  
"What was your old school, a prison?" Hermione asked seriously. "No one takes off points like that here."  
  
"No one?"  
  
"Well," Hermione conceded, "Slytherin prefects do. But generally only off of Gryffindors. Especially first-year Gryffindors, just to be vindictive."  
  
Harry laughed. "Yeah, we have that, too." Hermione looked questioningly at him, and he corrected himself, "I mean, house rivalries, and all. Back at my old school."  
  
The two friends started walking again in the direction of the Fat Lady's portrait in silence. Just as they were about to reach the common room entrance, Harry asked, "Why is there such a rivalry here, do you think?"  
  
"I don't know," Hermione answered. "But there always has been, as far as I know. Now, come on, you promised me help with Summoning Charms after our break. And I think our break is over."  
  
Harry laughed. "Enough excitement for you in one night?"  
  
"I think so. What, don't tell me you do stuff like that all the time?"  
  
"Well, my invisibility cloak doesn't fall of all the time," he answered her with a laugh. "I don't get caught all the time. But come on," he turned to the Fat Lady and said, "Chudley Cannons." The portrait swung open and he glanced back at Hermione as he stepped through. "Summoning Charms await."  
  
Hermione shook her head and laughed as she followed him back into the Gryffindor common room for the evening.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Six: 'Transfiguration Class'  
  
- "Honestly," Hermione shook her head, "you've been here how long and you already hate them?"  
  
"You have no idea," Harry said. "I have to admit, though, I may have to hear that story eventually," he nodded his head towards Neville. "Anything that starts out 'Slytherin keeper's head' and finishes with 'slams into pole' sounds pretty good to me."  
  
- "Okay," Harry took a breath, "so we just..." he paused and consulted his notes, then aimed his wand at the worm. If he didn't know better, he would have said the worm looked frightened. He counted silently to three, and then muttered the incantation.  
  
A spark bounced from his wand and collided with the worm. The worm bounced a few inches into the air, twisted, and fell back to the desk. Nothing else happened.  
  
"That has got to be inhumane," Hermione said.  
  
- The students all stood up and began to cram their supplies back into their book bags. As Harry and Hermione were about to leave, Professor Black called out to Harry and stopped them.   
  
"I was wondering, Mr. Potter, if I might have a word with you before you go?" Harry nodded and turned to walk back to the front of the room. Hermione hung back by the doorway, but Black spoke to her, too, "You may go on to lunch, Ms. Granger. Don't worry, I won't be keeping him long." 


	6. Transfiguration Class

Chapter Six: 'Transfiguration Class'  
  
A few days after Harry had thoroughly humiliated Neville on the Quidditch pitch, the other boy seemed to have forgiven him. Harry suspected it was in no small part because Neville wanted to borrow his broom for the upcoming Quidditch match, and since Gryffindor's first game of the year was against Slytherin, Harry was seriously considering allowing it.  
  
Neville hadn't asked yet, but he was currently spending their walk to Transfiguration class sucking up to Harry. Harry would have been more amused by the situation had he not been so nervous about the class. This would be the first time the fifth year Gryffindors had Transfiguration this year and Harry was not sure how he would react to having to spend an entire class period with Sirius, and pretending not to know him. He had managed to avoid him since their meeting after the Welcoming Feast, but Harry realized it was stupid and, anyways, couldn't last forever.  
  
As Neville droned on about some impressive play he had made in a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff the year before, Harry glanced around him and realized he hadn't seen Hermione since breakfast. Luckily, Colin Creevey was hanging off of Neville's every word and Harry's lack of attention went unnoticed.  
  
"And then I swerved away from the beater as he dove for the Bludger. I caught the Quaffle one-handed and started for the goal..." Neville was saying enthusiastically as they arrived at the classroom.  
  
Harry pushed the door open and slipped inside. Professor Black had not yet arrived, but Hermione was sitting alone at a desk near the middle of the room. Harry quickly left Neville and Colin behind and slipped into the seat next to Hermione.  
  
Neville stopped mid-speech and gaped at Harry. "But, I thought we could sit together, Harry. I haven't told you about the time I knocked the Slytherin keeper head-first into the goal post yet..."  
  
"As interesting as that sounds," Harry began, and it did sound pretty interesting, "I really think I'll sit with Hermione now. Maybe you could tell Colin about it!" he suggested. Colin grinned eagerly, but Neville scoffed at him.  
  
"Oh, but he was there when it happened! I don't need to tell him!"  
  
"But you haven't told me what it was like up close!" Colin's eyes lit up. "Did his head crunch as he slammed into the pole?" Neville aimed a pointed glare at Harry and then slid into a desk to his left. Colin clambered into the seat next to him, and Neville began retelling the story to his friend in a low voice, clearly excluding Harry from the tale.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione. "I think I upset him."  
  
Hermione looked at first unsure of her response, but when Harry smiled, she did, too. "I take it you don't care?"  
  
Harry laughed slightly, "It's just getting a bit old, you know. I don't need to hear about everything he's ever done in Quidditch. If he wants to borrow my broom, he ought to just ask me."  
  
"Would you let him?"  
  
Parvati and Padma came into the room and sat down in front of Harry and Hermione as he thought seriously about his reply. After a moment, he said, "I might, you know. I mean, if I'm not going to be on the team, and Gryffindor already has a seeker, so I suppose I won't be, then I guess I could be team-spirited and share my broom. Especially," he added with a grin, "if it's for the match against Slytherin."  
  
"Honestly." Hermione shook her head. "You've been here how long and you already hate them?"  
  
"You have no idea," Harry said. "I have to admit, though, I may have to hear that story eventually." He nodded towards Neville. "Anything that starts out with 'Slytherin Keeper's head' and finishes with 'slams into pole' sounds pretty good to me."  
  
Hermione giggled. Seamus and Dean hurried into the room and took the seats in front of Neville and Colin. A few stragglers made their way through the door and soon the entire class had arrived. A few moments later, the door opened for a final time, and Sirius Black strode in.  
  
Harry turned to watch him. He didn't know if it was his own nervousness or something about the professor himself, but he had to admit that this Sirius had a commanding presence that the one he knew couldn't have mustered. Harry, along with the rest of the class, watched quietly as the professor made his way to the front of the room. Harry felt straight away that there would be no rule-breaking tolerated in this class; he couldn't imagine even trying.  
  
"Welcome back, fifth years," Black's voice. He dropped a briefcase so full it seemed to be near to bursting open onto his desk. "I trust that everyone had a good summer?" He eyed the students. Everyone nodded in unison. Harry noticed that even Neville seemed subdued. "Good." Sirius moved around his desk and sat down.  
  
He pulled a page of parchment from his briefcase and consulted it as he glanced around the room. It took Harry just a second to realize he was silently taking attendance.  
  
As the professor finished the roll, Neville's hand shot up into the air. Professor Black acknowledged him, and the boy said, "Did you have a good summer, Professor?"  
  
"I did, Neville." Professor Black smiled kindly, though it was clear that he, too, could read the blatant 'suck up' expression on Neville's face. "My wife and I took our daughters to Paris for a few weeks. Had a marvelous time. Now, are there any more personal questions, or may we begin?"  
  
No one said anything, so Black put the roll sheet back on his desk, stood up, and came to sit on the edge of his desk, right in front of Parvati and Padma. The twins sighed happily as he situated himself before them. Harry saw Professor Black smile a little at this.  
  
"Can anyone tell me what we were just finishing up with when the year came to a close last summer?" Professor Black asked. Neville's hand shot into the air, as did Padma's, but Black looked past both of them and called on Hermione. Her eyes widened with surprise as she heard her name and glanced over at Harry, as if hoping he could help her.  
  
"Well." she began softly.  
  
"Speak up, can't hear you!" Neville called out. Black whipped his head around to look at Neville and the boy quieted quickly.  
  
Hermione began again, a bit louder this time. "We, were, um, turning inanimate objects into fully functional, live, and. um, large animals."  
  
Professor Black smiled at Hermione, and she looked relieved to have gotten the answer correct. Harry was surprised at the high level of transfiguration these students had been studying. His inanimate-object-to- animal transfigurations had been limited to simple spells like pincushion- to-hedgehog, and he would hardly have called any of his classmates' resulting hedgehogs 'fully functional'.  
  
"That's right," Sirius said from his position perched on the edge of his desk. "And we will begin this year by turning animals into other animals. By the end of the school year, we will have progressed to basic human transfiguration."  
  
"Animals to other animals?" Harry heard Hermione mutter. "Is that even ethical?"  
  
Apparently Black had heard her as well, and he smiled at her. "I assure you, Ms. Granger, that it does not hurt them. And I will make sure all animals are returned to their original forms before class is over."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly, but she still looked skeptical of the integrity of the experiment. Neville smirked over at them. He still seemed upset with Harry for choosing Hermione over him, and whispered in Hermione's direction, "Afraid you'll hurt the animals? Probably will. At the rate you're going, you'll kill them before you change them."  
  
Professor Black had heard him as well, it was clear, but before he could do anything, Harry shot to his feet, "You take that back!" he exclaimed, feeling a little childish at the statement. "Just because Hermione maybe can't do transfiguration as well as you can..."  
  
Neville jumped up as well. "As well as I can? She's terrible!" he sneered at Harry. "But I suppose to you she looks like a right genius, doesn't she? Are you as behind in Transfiguration as you are in every other subject? What kind of school did you go to before, didn't they teach you anything?"  
  
"All right!" Professor Black's voice thundered, and he was suddenly between them. He shoved both boys into their seats and glared at them. "That is absolutely enough. I will not have this in my classroom. We are here to learn, and absolutely not," - he directed his glare at Neville - "to make fun of other students' abilities. As such, you will lose five points from Gryffindor." He whirled around and strode back to his desk as Harry saw Dean, Seamus, and Colin glaring at Neville. "Furthermore, you will each less five points for fighting. Now." He took a deep breath, regaining his control. "Can you each behave like civilized young adults, or will I have to separate you like children?"  
  
Neville ducked his head and scowled as he sunk down into his seat, but Harry nodded at the professor. "Sorry," Harry said.  
  
Black marked the loss of points down in a parchment notebook as the students watched quietly. The fifteen points duly noted, he glared at the two boys for a moment longer, then stood up and looked at Harry thoughtfully. "Mr. Potter, now that we're on the subject, I must ask, what level of transfiguration you were studying when you left your former school?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Some objects into animals. but not, you know, animals into animals or anything."  
  
"Quite all right, Mr. Potter." Black nodded, watching him for a moment further. "The basic pincushion-to-hedgehog, or tea kettle-to-tortoise?" Harry nodded and Black smiled. "You don't have much more to learn, then. I have no doubt you will catch up quickly, you seem like a bright young man."  
  
Harry heard Neville muttering under his breath, and Colin tried to scoot his chair away from the other boy a little. Black either didn't notice or pretended not to.  
  
"Very well," Black said, setting a small box on his desk. Distinct squishy noises could be heard from it. "We will begin by turning worms into caterpillars, a fairly simple transfiguration." Professor Black continued to explain the process the students would follow as they all whipped their parchments and quills out and began scribbling what he said.  
  
Harry glanced at Hermione. She looked very cute with the tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, completely focused on what she was writing. Wait a minute, he thought, that's Hermione! He shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued with his notes. Soon, Black passed out a worm for each student to practice on. Each of the girls, Hermione included, squealed in disgust as the slimy earthworms were placed on the desk in front of them. "At least we don't have to dissect them," Harry pointed out, and Hermione nodded weakly in assent.  
  
Neville and Colin had gotten immediately to work as soon as they got their worms. Dean and Seamus seemed to be comparing theirs, to see which was longer. Professor Black was standing in front of Parvati and Padma, trying to explain to them that they didn't actually have to touch the worms, and Harry and Hermione were staring worriedly at their worms, each afraid they wouldn't be able to do the spell properly.  
  
"Having trouble?" Harry glanced up to see Black standing above them with a smile on his face. "May I make a suggestion? It might be a bit easier if you actually tried."  
  
Hermione blushed scarlet and Harry nodded. "Right, professor, we were just... just getting to that part."  
  
"Another suggestion: relax." He smiled at them again. "Hermione, you know full well I won't hurt you if you don't get it right. And the same goes for you, Harry. Like I said, you're here to learn. If learning means messing up a few times at first, so be it. And, just between you and me," - he leaned down and lowered his voice to a whisper - , "for all his talk, Mr. Longbottom hasn't gotten it right, either. Mr. Creevey, on the other hand, is doing quite well." With a wink to them both, Black turned and made his way over to the Neville and Colin. Harry heard him congratulating Colin on his good progress, while Neville's scowl deepened further.  
  
"Okay." Harry took a breath. "So we just..." He paused and consulted his notes, then aimed his wand at the worm. If he hadn't known better, he would have said the worm looked frightened. He counted silently to three, then muttered the incantation.  
  
His wand emitted a small spark, which collided with the worm. The worm bounced a few inches into the air, twisted, and fell back to the desk. Nothing else happened.  
  
"That has got to be inhumane," Hermione said.  
  
"Well, I don't notice you doing any better!" Harry retorted.  
  
"Oh, Harry, I didn't mean you specifically." She shook her head. "I just meant this whole thing in general."  
  
Harry was suddenly reminded of his Hermione's obsession with house-elves and S.P.E.W. He shoved the thought away for the moment. "Right," Harry said. "Not that I totally disagree, but I'm going to have to learn this if I ever want Neville off my back. So, here goes." He aimed his wand again at the worm, which he decided was defiantly looking afraid of him.  
  
By the end of the class period, Harry was beginning to get the hang of things. His worm now had caterpillar legs, at least, though nothing else about it had changed. Hermione had only managed to shoot sparks at her worm, but not for lack of trying. He was beginning to realize that even the Hermione he had known before didn't put as much effort into her schoolwork as this one did.  
  
"Very good, class." Professor Black clapped his hands. He was again at the front of the room, by his desk. Harry glanced to his left and noticed that both Colin and Neville's worms were beginning to resemble caterpillars. The professor waved his wand and the worms all returned, as promised, to their original state. "Good work today. I can see that this year will be as good as, if not better than, last year. Class dismissed."  
  
Having been nearly silent for most of the class, the students were all itching to talk, and conversation broke out among them as they stood up and began to cram their supplies back into their book bags. As Harry and Hermione were heading to the door, Professor Black called out to Harry and they stopped  
  
"I was wondering, Mr. Potter, if I might have a word with you before you go?" Harry nodded and turned to walk back to Black. Hermioen hung back, halfway to the door, but Black said to her, "You may go on to lunch, Ms. Granger. Don't worry, I won't be keeping him long."  
  
Hermione left reluctantly and Black motioned for Harry to sit in the front desk, where Parvati had been moments before. Sirius seated himself again on the edge of his own desk.  
  
"From what I have seen today," Black began, "you are quite a talented wizard, Harry."  
  
Surprised, Harry said, "Thanks."  
  
Black became more serious. "That said, you are a good deal behind the rest of the class. I cannot allow that to continue. If I did, you would only fall further behind. I suggest, Mr. Potter, that you come in for extra tutoring."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "What, here? With you?"  
  
"You sure know how to make a bloke feel good about himself, Harry," Black said with a chuckle. "I don't have the Plague or anything, you know."  
  
"I know..." Harry trailed off. He was torn. He knew he need the extra help, and a part of him desperately wanted to be able to spend more time with his godfather, even if it was this strange and hardly recognizable incarnation of the man. On the other hand, it was this class he had been dreading the most, and he couldn't imagine anything much stranger than having to spend more time with this Sirius. With the possible exception, he supposed, of having to spend more time with the Ron Weasley in this world.  
  
"Harry?" Black leaned in and snapped his fingers in front of the boy's eyes. Harry blinked rapidly in response and looked back up at his professor. "Sorry. You slipped away for a moment there."  
  
"Sorry," Harry responded. "Sorry. Didn't mean to. Just... thinking. Shouldn't, you know, Hermione... she seems to be further behind than I am, even though she has been here."  
  
Black smiled. "She's been coming in for tutoring since first year. In fact, if you're not sure it'll do any good, you could ask her what she thinks."  
  
"No, that's not it..."  
  
"We knew each other, didn't we?" Sirius's eyes narrowed. "I mean, where you came from. You know another version of me."  
  
Harry looked up at Black, who seemed genuinely intrigued by the possibility. Harry nodded. "Yeah. Um. You were - "  
  
"No, no," Black stopped him. "You don't have to tell me anything. About our relationship or anything, if you don't feel comfortable. If we're mortal enemies, I don't have to hear about it."  
  
Harry cracked a smile. "No. We get along pretty well, actually."  
  
Sirius pushed himself off the desk and began picking up the worms left on the desks as he said, "Good to know. But that leaves you no excuse for trying to avoid me here, Harry. Look, if things don't work out, we can always stop the lessons..."  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, you're right, of course. I'm just being silly. And I do need the help. When can we start?"  
  
"Anxious now, aren't you?" Black accepted Harry and Hermione's worms from Harry's outstretched hand and closed them all back in the box. "How about I check my schedule and get back to you when I can fit it in?"  
  
"All right," Harry agreed. "Can I ask... how did you know I knew you?"  
  
"Other than your reluctance to be around me any more than is necessary?" Black smiled wryly. "Because that's a telltale sign of some sort of guilt."  
  
Harry laughed. "Sorry."  
  
"Quite all right. I think we've worked past the problem now." Black began collecting his things from his desk. "I caught your little slip after the Welcoming Feast. "At Harry's blank look, Black continued, "You very nearly called me by first name, remember? And besides," - he grinned suddenly in a way that reminded Harry of the prankster his Sirius had been - "I'm wickedly smart, aren't it? I'm not a Ravenclaw for nothing."  
  
"Certainly some ego," Harry muttered to himself while laughing. He was already beginning to wonder why he had been wary of being around this Sirius Black.  
  
"I heard that," the professor admonished as he directed Harry towards the door. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the Great Hall. I expect Hermione will be waiting for you there." Harry nodded, so Sirius continued, "I'm glad to see the two of you have been becoming good friends."  
  
Harry smiled and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Well, she didn't seem to have too many friends here. And she's really a nice person."  
  
"She is. You know, I've always thought, Hermione reminds me a good bit of myself, at that age. And," he continued, "watching the two of you in class today, I've decided you remind me a good bit of my wife."  
  
"Thanks... I think?" Harry questioned.  
  
Sirius laughed. "You had better take that as a compliment. That's my wife we're talking about here." He locked the classroom door behind them and they started down the hallway together. "So, tell me," he said, "I've been hearing quite a bit about this broomstick of yours."  
  
Harry blushed, "Yeah. My, um, Firebolt."  
  
"So I've heard. Not a model we have in this world, so far as I know. I don't keep up with Quidditch all too much, but my daughter is quite the fan," Black said. "On a semi-related note, don't let Neville Longbottom get you down too much. I think he's just suffering from a good case of what we might call... broomstick envy?"  
  
Harry laughed. "He's a good flier, too. And he doesn't have a bad broom at all."  
  
"No, indeed," Sirius agreed. "And Gryffindor is a tough team to beat. Though I like to think Ravenclaw is a bit of a challenge, as well. I might be biased, of course. Speaking of Quidditch, you must have heard by now at least someone mention your resemblance to James Potter. Plays for the Cannons?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Dean mentioned it, first day here. His name is James Potter?"  
  
"Indeed," Sirius said. "He and the Cannons won their last match enormously, as always. He and that damned Snape will lead them to victory yet again, I suppose."  
  
"Snape?"  
  
"Severus Snape," Sirius confirmed. "I can't stand the slimy git."  
  
Harry had to laugh at that. Nice to know some things never change, he thought.  
  
"And just what are you laughing at, Mr. Potter?" Sirius inquired. "Mind, I'm not particularly fond of that James Potter either. Knew them both at school. But I'll do my best not to hold your resemblance against you."  
  
"Thanks." Harry pushed open the doors to the Great Hall.  
  
"I guess," Sirius began, "that this is where we part. Do enjoy your lunch, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded and then, just as Sirius began to walk off, he said, "You are going to wash your hands?" Sirius held his hands up to inspect them, and Harry laughed. "You were actually holding the earthworms, remember?"  
  
Sirius nodded with a laugh. "Good one, Potter. I told you, you're like my wife. Take a point for Gryffindor. I'll just go and take care of my hands now." The professor turned and exited the Great Hall the way he had just come in. Harry turned back to the room and saw Hermione waving to him.  
  
With a laugh to himself, he let the doors slam shut behind him and hurried over to join his friend at the Gryffindor house table.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Seven: 'A Hogsmeade Visit'  
  
- "Go talk to her, then," the other boy advised. "I mean, what is a Hogsmeade weekend for, if not to engender romantic entanglements?"  
  
"Engender romantic entanglements?" Padma snorted with laughter. Colin blushed bright red and Harry was glad to find himself no longer the center of the teasing. His relief was short lived.  
  
Parvati smiled at him. "So, go on, Harry. Get to your engendering!"  
  
- "Can we go there?" The prospect of meeting his quasi-mother frightened Harry more than he would ever admit, but he couldn't pass up the chance to find out if it was really her.  
  
"To the museum?" Colin snorted. "On a weekend?"  
  
"What's wrong with it?" Hermione retorted with unusual vigor and Colin immediately looked remorseful. "I'll take you there if you want, Harry." 


	7. A Hogsmeade Visit

Chapter Seven: 'A Hogsmeade Visit'  
  
A loud thud woke Harry abruptly one Saturday morning from what had been a pleasant dream. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, all he could remember of the dream was that it involved flying on his Firebolt with Hermione. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and pushed aside his bed curtains to see what had woken him.  
  
Seamus was peering out from the bed next to him, his light hair messy from sleep, and the two boys looked across the room and saw Colin kneeling in front of his trunk, its contents strewn about the floor around him.  
  
"Colin?" Dean asked sleepily as he emerged from the bed next to Colin's. "What are you doing? It's only..." He checked his watch, which sat on his bedside table. ".ten in the morning. On a Saturday. What are you even doing awake?"  
  
With a disgruntled sigh, Colin slammed his trunk closed and sat on top of it. "I can't seem to find the robes I want to wear."  
  
Dean and Seamus both burst into laughter, and Harry cracked a smile as Dean said, "The robes you want to wear? Does it really matter? Robes are robes. Or are you suddenly a girl, or something?"  
  
Colin flushed with embarrassment as Harry got up and helped him to sort his things back out. Together, they refilled his trunk, as Colin muttered, "No, I just wanted to look nice, is that a crime?"  
  
"Colin's got a crush," Dean crowed with delight. "Colin wants to look nice for a girl. Who is it, Colin?"  
  
Colin turned brighter red and flung the lid of his newly refilled trunk closed again and sulked down onto his bed. He jerked the scarlet curtains closed around him, causing the other three boys to laugh even more.  
  
"So who could it be?" Seamus asked Harry and Dean as the three boys began to pull their own robes for the day out of their trunks.  
  
"Padma or Parvati, maybe," Dean suggested. "Or, remember in first year, when he had that thing for Susan Bones? Maybe it's her."  
  
"Will you all shut up!" Colin's muffled voice shouted from inside his bed.  
  
Harry, Dean, and Seamus glanced at each other, and Dean drew his fingers across his mouth, pretending to zip his lips. Harry held back another and grabbed his robes and toothbrush from on top of his trunk. The three boys headed en masse towards the bathroom.  
  
After changing into his plain black robes, Harry found a sink and began to brush his teeth. Dean and Seamus did the same and, just as the three boys were about to leave and head down to breakfast, Neville appeared, fully dressed and hair neatly combed, in the doorway.  
  
"Potter!" he called. Harry turned to look at him. "Just came from a prefect's meeting. McGonagall said to tell you she's decided to allow you to go into Hogsmeade today with the rest of us."  
  
"Really?" Harry said, surprised. He hadn't expected to be able to go to the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year.  
  
Neville snorted. "Really. What, did you forget to have Mummy sign the form for you or something?"  
  
Harry flushed slightly and stammered for a second, then said, "I didn't get the form on time. The, um, owl didn't arrive quickly enough and I wasn't sure, you know, if Professor McGonagall had gotten it back from my... my mum... or not."  
  
"Well, come on then," Seamus said, as he smashed a last bit of hair into place. He grabbed his things and turned from the mirror. "Let's get to breakfast, I'm starving. And we don't want to be late - what if Zonko's sells out?"  
  
Dean followed Seamus out the door, with Harry and Neville bringing up the rear as Colin trudged into the bathroom, navy blue dress robes clutched in his hands. Neville looked confused as the other three stifled another laugh.  
  
"I thought you weren't going to be able to come," Parvati remarked as Harry and Colin handed bottles of butterbeer out to her, Padma, and Hermione.  
  
Harry took a bottle for himself as he slid into a seat next to Padma. "Change of plans. Last minute, changed my mind, that's all."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you came." Parvati smiled at him from her seat next to Hermione. She glared at Colin as he sat down on the other side of Hermione, forcing Parvati to squeeze in by the wall. "Couldn't you pull up a chair?"  
  
"I..." Colin began, blushing faintly.  
  
"Oh, leave him be," Padma chastised. "If there's not enough room over there, come sit with us. Harry's skinnier than Colin, anyway."  
  
Parvati grinned. "You know, I think I will. Shove over," she said to Hermione and Colin, who reluctantly slid off of their bench and allowed Parvati out. She stood up and daintily sat on the bench opposite, right next to Harry. He squeezed in, giving her more room, and Padma rolled her eyes at her sister. "What a second," Parvati said, glancing around the table, "I thought Neville was with us."  
  
Padma rolled her eyes again. "No, not since we got to Hogsmeade. He went off to Zonko's with Fred and George. Something about preparing for something so big the Slytherins wouldn't know what hit them." The whole table laughed at that. "But I guess you were too preoccupied to notice he was missing." She smirked and nodded almost imperceptibly towards Harry.  
  
Hermione caught the glance, and narrowed her eyes slightly at Parvati, but Harry and Colin both looked bewildered at what the girls were talking about.  
  
"Anyway." Parvati glared at her sister. "Enough of that. I was just asking where Neville was, after all. So," she said, picking up her bottle of butterbeer, "how about a toast? To surviving the first month and a half of our fifth year?"  
  
The five clinked their bottles together, each chorusing, "To fifth year." As Harry began to take a sip of his butterbeer, a voice interrupted their group.  
  
"Well, well, well."  
  
Harry glanced over to see Ron standing with Draco, who had his arm slung lazily over Ginny's shoulder. "You know, Potter, if you weren't such an ugly ass, and a Gryffindor, I might congratulate you." Ron glowered down at him.  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry glared back, setting down his drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Padma and Colin each reach for their wands and Hermione cower in the corner. Ron's face twisted into a merciless smile as he stepped forward, placed both his hands on the edge of their table, and leaned in towards the group.  
  
"It's quite a broom you have. Or so I hear. A Firebolt, was it? I've never heard of it, and there's not too much I haven't heard of." He snorted disdainfully and continued, "Normally, I would just assume my source - an idiot Hufflepuff - didn't know what they were saying. But the word is, you made Lard-ass Longbottom look even worse than normal. So I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."  
  
Harry stared up at Ron in disbelief. Colin placed himself in front of Hermione and was pointing his wand shakily at the three Slytherins, who didn't seem bothered by the threat. Padma, and especially Parvati, were both looking very angry.  
  
"What we're really after," Draco said casually, "is your connection. If it's anyone upstanding, we probably know them anyway..."  
  
"More like if they're not upstanding," Padma muttered.  
  
Draco sneered in her direction and continued, "We want this broom model. No way does a Gryffindor need to be the only one to make Longbottom look like an arse." His tone grew more hateful. "You'll tell us where you got that broom. We can make it worth your while, if you want..."  
  
"I don't think I will," Harry sneered back, surprising himself with the disgust and anger he heard in his own voice.  
  
Both Ron and Draco's faces hardened, and Ron reached to jerk Harry out of his seat, probably for a fight. He stopped in mid-movement and Harry glanced over his shoulder to see what Ron had noticed. Professor Riddle was making his way towards them, a butterbeer in hand, with a lopsided smile. "Hello boys and girls!" he said as he approached the group.  
  
"Hello, professor," they chorused back.  
  
"My, my, this is an odd bunch, isn't it? I didn't think Gryffindors and Slytherins spent time together outside of classes!" The professor had a genuinely puzzled expression on his face.  
  
Draco scowled, as if insulted by the mere suggestion. "We don't. We were just leaving."  
  
With that, the three Slytherins turned on their heels and flounced away. Harry smiled to himself. He had never been so happy to see Riddle, and he was beginning to think maybe Hermione was right about him after all. The professor bid the lot of them goodbye and turned to go sit with a group of adults at a booth not far away.  
  
"Wow." Parvati grinned. "I have never, in all my life, been so glad to see a professor."  
  
"You and me both," Colin agreed. "I swear, those Slytherins just get slimier every day."  
  
Harry was about to reply when the words caught in his throat. As he had watched the Slytherins leave, his eyes had caught a table in the center of the restaurant with a crowd of girls sitting at it. He hadn't really paid them any attention at first, but a new girl had appeared at the table, several butterbeers in hand. He thought he could see a Ravenclaw emblem on her robes as she handed the bottles out to a few of the girls around her.  
  
He caught her eye briefly as she turned for a second in his direction. She smiled lightly at him, and then sat down with her friends.  
  
"Harry!" He turned to see Padma waving her hand in front of his face. "Where were you? We were just going to ask..."  
  
"Who is that?" Harry interrupted her.  
  
The others at the table turned en masse to look in the direction he had been staring. He groaned at their complete lack of subtly as Colin asked, "Who is who?"  
  
"That girl." He tried to point without being obvious, but it wasn't working, so he began to describe her. "The red head right there, with her back to us. The one with the sparkling blue eyes."  
  
"How do you know," Padma smirked at him, "that her eyes are 'sparkling blue' if her back is to us?"  
  
Harry flushed. "Well, she looked this way before."  
  
Colin grinned, seizing an opportunity for revenge for the morning's teasing. "Harry's got a crush, Harry's got a crush," he crowed, just a little too loudly. Colin's exclamation had drawn the attention of the table of girls, who were watching as Harry turned bright red. Had he not been so busy quieting Colin, he might have noticed that the redhead in question was smiling at him again.  
  
"Colin!" he hissed. Colin glanced over at the table of girls, then turned back to Harry.  
  
"Sorry," he muttered.  
  
Parvati was scowling, but Padma was grinning at Harry. "You'd be playing a dangerous game there, Harry."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Padma's grin widened. "That's Bonnie Black. Professor's daughter - she's Black's daughter, naturally. From what I hear, he's more strict with his daughters than he is with his students. You wouldn't want to break her heart."  
  
"She's very pretty, though..." Harry murmured, before he even knew he was even saying anything.  
  
His four friends were grinning at him. Colin, especially, looked quite amused. "Go talk to her, then," the other boy advised. "I mean, what is a Hogsmeade weekend for, if not to engender romantic entanglements?"  
  
Padma snorted with laughter. "Engender romantic entanglements?" Colin blushed, and Harry was glad to find that he wasn't the center of attention any longer. His relief proved to be short lived.  
  
Parvati smiled at him. "So, go on, Harry. Get to your engendering!"  
  
"No." Harry shook his head, looking back at Bonnie. He thought she looked familiar, but decided he must have simply passed her in the hallways. "No, I couldn't go talk to her. I don't know her. I wouldn't know what to say."  
  
"Probably just as well, really," Colin said, abruptly changing his opinion.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Colin shrugged. "You wouldn't want to get caught, would you? I mean, her mother works here in Hogsmeade. If she saw you trying to chat up her daughter, it would get back to Professor Black quick as hell, and then it'd be all over for you. It'd be no more Mr. Nice Guy."  
  
Harry tore his eyes from Bonnie and turned back to his table. "Her mother works here in Hogsmeade? Si - Professor Black's wife works here?"  
  
"In the museum," Hermione said, speaking up for the first time in a while. She ducked her head as everyone turned to look at her, but finally said, "She's the curator of the museum."  
  
"Yeah," Colin said with a nod. "I've never actually been in it, but it's supposed to have artifacts from every aspect of wizarding life, from almost any time period you could want. Supposedly, if it's historical, and she doesn't know it, it's not actually true."  
  
Padma nodded. "It's too bad we can't have her teaching History of Magic, instead of that awful Professor Binns."  
  
"Lily prefers working at the museum..." Hermione began, but stopped short when everyone turned to stare at her. "What?" she asked meekly.  
  
"Lily?" Parvati smirked at her. "You're on first name basis with Professor Black's wife? I knew you spent nearly every Hogsmeade weekend at that place, but really! She's your teacher's wife!"  
  
Hermione looked like she was about to defend herself, but before she could say anything, Harry spoke. He had glanced back toward Bonnie Black, squinting to get a good look at her face, but he turned to Hermione and said, "Professor Black's wife is named Lily?"  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. Harry glanced back at the girl. As soon as Hermione had said "Lily", he realized why the Ravenclaw girl looked so familiar. He had pictures of his mother, and had seen her twice - her apparition after the Third Task, and in the Mirror of Erised during his first year - and this Bonnie Black looked almost identical to his mother. His mouth hanging open in surprise, Harry glanced back and forth between Hermione and Bonnie. The other Gryffindors stared at him, confused, as he gathered his thoughts.  
  
"Harry..." Padma began, but he cut her off.  
  
"Is she working now?"  
  
"Who?" Colin asked.  
  
Harry turned back to his friends. "Lil... Mrs... Professor Black's wife. At the museum. Would she be there now?"  
  
They all turned to Hermione, who nodded quickly. "I don't see why she wouldn't be. I mean, she usually is. Unless there's been some new magical artifact discovery, and she's had to go away to it."  
  
"Can we go there?" The prospect of meeting his alternate-universe-mother frightened Harry more than he would ever admit, but he couldn't pass up the chance to find out if it was really her.  
  
"To the museum?" Colin snorted. "On a weekend?"  
  
"What's wrong with it?" Hermione retorted with unusual vigor and Colin immediately looked remorseful. "I'll take you there if you want, Harry."  
  
Parvati's eyes narrowed at Hermione as Harry agreed to go with her. "Well, I'm going, too, then."  
  
Padma looked surprised at her twin. "You? To the museum?"  
  
Parvati glared back at her sister as she, Harry, and Hermione stood up. "I'll have you know, I think it'll be very interesting. There'll be nice things to look at."  
  
"I bet there will be." Padma grinned mischievously at her twin, nodding slightly towards Harry. Parvati rolled her eyes.  
  
"Is anyone else coming?" Harry asked. Padma shook her head no. Colin looked torn, but ultimately came to the decision that he couldn't be bothered to spend the weekend doing anything relating to his studies.  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Parvati left the Three Broomsticks. Bonnie Black grinned at Harry again as he passed, but this time he became flustered and almost tripped over a chair. As Hermione helped him regain his balance, he glanced back and saw Padma trying to engage Colin in conversation. She wasn't having much luck - Colin was watching the trio as they left. When Harry caught his gaze, Colin quickly turned away to face Padma.  
  
The sun was very bright in the sky and Harry squinted as he stepped out onto the main street of the village. He glanced around, not seeing anything vaguely resembling a museum, and wondered where it could possibly be located. Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him in the proper direction as Parvati hurried after them.  
  
"So," Parvati began, eager to regain Harry's attention, "why are you so interested in Black's wife?"  
  
Hermione scrunched up her nose. "I was wondering that, too."  
  
"I just..." Harry paused, unable to think of a remotely plausible reason for wanting to meet the woman. He was silent for a moment, in thought, as they walked down the busy street.  
  
"Harry?" Parvati's voice brought him back to the present.  
  
"Huh?" He glanced over at her. "Oh, right. It's just... well, I'll tell you later."  
  
Parvati raised her eyebrows. Hermione didn't seem to mind his unwillingness to answer, but he could tell that Parvati wasn't going to let it go. "You'll tell us later? Why don't you tell us now? We were nice enough to bring you here, after all."  
  
"I..." Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.  
  
"There it is," she said, pointing toward a small building. Its haphazard and seemingly impossible nature reminded Harry of the Burrow for a moment - both seemed only structurally possible due to magic - but he ignored the resemblance. As they came closer, something else occurred to him: this museum was located in the exact spot the Shrieking Shack had occupied in his own world.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to point this out, but just before he spoke, he realized that it would be a very stupid thing to say. Still, his mouth was hanging open, so he had to say something, or else look like an idiot. So he read aloud the sigh perched above the door: "Hogsmeade Village Historical Society Museum and Gift Shop."  
  
"Ooh, there's a gift shop?" Parvati squealed.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We're not here to shop, Parvati. Well?" she turned to Harry. "Are we going to go in?"  
  
"Yeah," he said hoarsely, his mouth dry. With the door only a few feet away, Harry was now confronted with the strangest reality he had faced since arriving in this world: in a matter of minutes, he could be meeting his real mother, in the flesh, for the first time since he was a baby.  
  
"Come on." Hermione was beginning to get impatient. She reached for his arm again and pulled him towards the museum door. Parvati hurried to catch up. Hermione pushed the large wooden door open and the three students made their way inside.  
  
The room Harry found himself in looked very well like it should have taken up the entire space of the building, but he knew full well from his experience of magical buildings that outside appearances could be deceiving. The room had a domed ceiling that was charmed like the Great Hall to show the outside sky. The walls were covered with historical paintings, posters, and maps. A set of double doors on the other side of the circular room presumably led to the exhibits and a solitary desk sat in the center of the room.  
  
A young wizard, about the right age to have recently graduated from Hogwarts, was sitting in the chair behind the desk. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening and hastily shoved something under a pile of papers. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Hermione. Unperturbed, and showing a confidence Harry and Parvati had not yet seen, she marched directly to him.  
  
"Here to see the exhibits?" the wizard asked.  
  
Hermione looked as though she would like to, but Parvati pointed out a sign listing the prices. "Even a student ticket is more than I'd like to spend. How do you find the money to come here all the time?"  
  
The young wizard sighed, clearly bored. "If you're not here for the exhibits, then what are you doing here?"  
  
Parvati looked perturbed at the young man's rudeness. "We'd like to see Mrs. Black, if that's quite all right." Hermione nodded her agreement with this wish. Neither of the girls seemed to notice that Harry was still hanging back near the door.  
  
"Mrs. Black is rather busy, young lady," the wizard admonished, trying to sound superior.  
  
"Well, why don't you just go and check? Clearly you're not busy," Parvati retorted, stabbing her finger done on the open Quidditch magazine he had tried to hide. "Tell her Hermione's here."  
  
With a grunt, the wizard stuffed his magazine into a desk drawer and heaved himself to his feet. He disappeared through a door Harry hadn't seen before.  
  
When he returned, there was a tall, red-haired woman with him. Except for the age difference and her bright green eyes, this woman looked almost exactly like Bonnie Black. Harry staggered back toward the doorway as she approached them. There was no doubt about it; this woman was this world's version of his mother.  
  
"Hermione!" Lily Black said cheerfully. "It's good to see you. I had wondered if you'd be by this weekend."  
  
"It's good to see you, too, Mrs. Black," Hermione replied. At an admonishing glare, she corrected herself, "Lily, I mean."  
  
Parvati snickered, causing Hermione to blush faintly.  
  
"So, what brings you girls by today?" Lily asked with a smile. Hermione and Parvati turned in unison to look back at Harry, still cowering by the door, his mouth gaping open in shock.  
  
"We came with Harry," Parvati explained. "Only, he won't tell us why. But he was ever so eager to meet you."  
  
Lily glanced questioningly at the two girls, but they could offer her no further answers, so she turned to look at Harry. He was still watching the three of them and didn't seem entirely aware of the fact that he was their topic of conversation. "Harry?" Lily called out. He didn't respond. A confused look on her face, she walked across the room and lightly touched his arm.  
  
He jumped at her touch, and his eyes whirled around to meet hers. His vision was blurred; he realized with a shock that there were tears in his eyes. He had unconsciously been working to keep himself from crying. Lily didn't seem to notice this.  
  
"Harry." Lily smiled at him. "I'm Lily Black, it's very nice to meet you. Your friends said you wanted to see me about something?"  
  
Harry just stared at her, trying to take in everything that was happening all at once. When he didn't respond, Lily spoke again.  
  
"Why don't we all go back to my office?" She turned to the girls, who both nodded and looked equally bewildered by Harry's behavior. Hermione pointed the way to the office and brought Parvati with her as Lily gently took Harry's arm and led him in the same direction.  
  
Though he couldn't remember having ever put any real thought into his expectations, Harry found Lily Black's office exactly as he would have expected his own mother's to look. As he watched the tall redhead settle herself in a chair behind her old-fashioned wooden desk, he had to remind himself repeatedly that this was not his own mother. His mother was dead, and had been for years; this woman was simply another world's version of her. No matter how he much he wanted it, this woman would never be his actual mother.  
  
Harry kept repeating these thoughts in his head as he, Parvati, and Hermione slid into three chairs facing Lily's desk. In many ways, the office looked like it could be a museum exhibit, itself. The furniture was all antique and the walls, though mostly blank, were decorated by two large paintings of historical wizarding events. Though he didn't want to seem as though he was snooping, Harry couldn't help but lean forward and sneak a peek at one photograph on the desk: it was a wizarding snapshot of a much younger Lily and Sirius, hand in hand, and obviously in love.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
The voice jerked Harry out of his thoughts, and he saw Parvati and Hermione staring at him, both looking bewildered. He found, to his embarrassment, that he hadn't been as subtle as he'd hoped in trying to see the photograph. Luckily, Lily didn't seem to mind.  
  
"That's my husband and me," she said, indicating the photograph, "but I suppose the three of you know him already."  
  
Parvati had an odd smile on her face, Harry noticed, and when she spoke, her voice had a dreamy quality. "When was it taken?"  
  
Lily picked up the photograph and studied it for a second. The young Sirius smiled and waved at her. "A few weeks before our wedding, actually. Ages ago now, I suppose."  
  
Harry noticed with some surprise that Hermione's smile mimicked Parvati's. Parvati sighed softly and said, "It all looks so romantic. Who would have ever thought Professor Black could be like that?"  
  
Hermione nodded her agreement to this statement. "Not that he isn't nice. He just seems so... well, so serious."  
  
"That he is," Lily said with a laugh. "In more ways than one. Now," she said, turning to Parvati, "you are, I assume, one of the young Miss Patils?"  
  
"Yes." Parvati nodded. "Didn't I introduce... Oh, no, I guess I didn't. I'm Parvati." Clearly abiding by manners long since drilled into her head, Parvati stuck her hand forward to shake.  
  
Lily set down the photograph and reached across the desk to shake Parvati's hand. "And your sister is Padma, correct?" Parvati nodded. "I know your parents, of course. They were, oh, several years ahead of me at Hogwarts, but we've become friends since. They're very nice people. It's good that there are still some like them left in the ministry these days."  
  
Parvati thanked her, but didn't seem to know what else to say, so Lily turned to Harry.  
  
"Now that I'm familiar with everyone else, we turn to the mysterious Harry. Do you have a last name, Harry?" Lily asked, a kind smile on her face.  
  
Harry sat staring at her. He thought that his mouth might have been gaping slightly open, but he couldn't seem to find the muscles to move it. Hermione turned and looked at him, looking bewildered again. Seeing that he wasn't going to say anything, she answered for him."It's Potter. Harry Potter."  
  
"Potter?" Lily asked. "Really? Any relation to the Quidditch player?"  
  
Harry barely heard the question as he sat across from his would be mother. A million thoughts were flying through his brain. His mother was dead, and this was not her, but he knew that this woman would be the closest he would ever come to meeting his mother, and hadn't he wanted for most of his life to be able to know her? He decided in that instant that, no matter how weird it felt to be talking to this woman, he was not going to let the opportunity pass him by. He had been given a second chance to know his mother and he wasn't going to let it pass him by.  
  
"What?" he croaked out, his voice scratchy from sitting silent for so long.  
  
"I was just asking," Lily repeated, "if you are related to James Potter?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. Um, not that I know of, that is. I've never met him or anything."  
  
"All right. Just as well, if you ask me," Lily remarked. Harry barely had a chance to process that comment before she was speaking again. "So, what can I do for the three of you today?"  
  
Hermione and Parvati both turned in their chairs to look at Harry.  
  
Realizing that he was the reason for the visit, Lily also turned to look at Harry, and suddenly he found himself once more unable to talk. He realized he hadn't thought through his plan to meet her. There was no way he could tell her the truth behind the visit, and he couldn't think of any plausible lie. He could almost hear the clock on the wall ticking off the seconds as he searched his mind for something, anything, to say that would sound reasonable.  
  
Parvati looked positively confused while Hermione looked like she thought her new friend might be slightly insane. Lily clearly also picked up on his distress, and appeared much more sympathetic to him than either of the girls.  
  
"Maybe you'd rather we talked alone?" she asked him. "Your friends could go look around the museum for a while, if you'd like the privacy."  
  
"No!" Harry exclaimed, hardly recognizing his own voice. As weird as this situation was, he knew it would get ten times weirder if he was left alone with Lily.  
  
"Okay." Lily was beginning to look just as confused as his friends and a little bit exasperated with him. Harry figured she was probably thinking he was the strangest boy she had ever met; he thought Hermione was probably right if she thought him insane. "Well, take your time, then. Whenever you figure out what you wanted to say to me..."  
  
Harry nodded quickly, thankful for the extra time to organize his thoughts and hoping that he would be able to do so.  
  
"Mrs. Black?" Parvati piped up. Lily turned her attention to the girl. "While Harry is... thinking... could I ask something?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Parvati reached into a purse that Harry hadn't even noticed she had and pulled out what looked like an assignment notebook. She flipped to a page towards the front and squinted at her own writing, then turned back to Lily. "We have this assignment for History of Magic, an essay on a historical figure. I got Reselda Snape. I know I should do the research on my own, but since we're here anyway, and it doesn't seem like much else is going on, I thought maybe you could at least give me a few pointers?"  
  
"I'll get you started in the right direction, how about that?" Parvati nodded eagerly. "Well, how much do you know about her?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Lily nodded. "About what I figured. That Professor Binns always has been useless. But you didn't hear that from me." Parvati nodded and laughed. "Well, Reselda Snape is the lesser known younger sister of Klaudius Snape, whom I'm guessing you've never heard of either?" Parvati shook her head no. "Maybe you'll have heard of him by his nickname: Grindelwald."  
  
"The dark wizard?" Hermione gasped out.  
  
"Indeed," Lily confirmed. "Very few people knew of his real name. Now this all took place a very long time ago, of course. About the same time as the Muggle First World War..."  
  
Harry, whose ears had pricked up at hearing the name Snape, thought that he remembered hearing about the dark wizard Grindelwald in the time period of the Second World War, but passed it off as his not paying close enough attention in History of Magic.  
  
Lily was still speaking, "The Snapes are, of course, a very old wizarding family. They had all been in Slytherin for generations, and I'll allow you to make your own assumptions about that. But Reselda was different. She was sorted into Gryffindor at Hogwarts and apparently disowned by her family because of it. Her brother had a soft spot for her, though, and through their closeness, she learned that he was the Dark Lord. It must have been very hard for her, but she turned against him and it was due mostly to her efforts that good triumphed over evil and Grindelwald was defeated."  
  
"Wow." Parvati looked shocked. "She sold out her own brother? I can't imagine doing that to my sister."  
  
"Nor can I," Lily agreed. "Then again, my sister has never been quite as horrible as Grindelwald. Now," she reached into her desk and pulled out some parchment, ink, and quills. "I'll make you a list of books to look in, if you want?"  
  
Parvati nodded eagerly, and Lily set out to writing the list.  
  
As she handed the piece of parchment to the girl, Harry screwed up his courage and blurted out, "I just thought I might have known you from somewhere."  
  
Lily turned, surprised, to look at Harry. It was almost as though she had forgotten he was even in the room. Hermione and Parvati turned to him, too, and he flushed at the abruptness of his outburst.  
  
"Well, did you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did you know me from somewhere?" Lily asked.  
  
Harry shook his head quickly. "No. No, I'm pretty sure I didn't. I must have had you mistaken for... for someone else."  
  
"That's too bad. You do seem like a nice kid, if a bit quiet. And you know," she contemplated out loud, "I do wonder if you aren't somehow related to that James Potter. I knew him at school; we were in the same house and same year, and you do look an awful lot like him."  
  
Parvati's eyes were the size of saucers. "You knew James Potter?"  
  
"I most certainly did. I met him on the Hogwarts Express my first year. And I can't say it was the most pleasant meeting, either." At the three students' intrigued expressions, Lily continued with a laugh, "I had met a girl, Sally Lewis, earlier on the train ride. We were both sorted into Gryffindor later on and became best friends. But at the time, we were sitting in a compartment, minding our own business, when James Potter and Remus Lupin came bursting in. Now, Sally thought they were both very cute, but I wasn't interested in boys yet, and was rather annoyed at the intrusion. James came striding into our compartment and decided to make himself at home by taking our candy. I thought I would be tough and threaten him with my wand, so he pulled out his wand as well. One thing led to another, and suddenly quite a few Chocolate Frogs exploded over my head. I had to go to the Sorting ceremony covered in sticky chocolaty goo."  
  
Hermione and Parvati both burst out laughing and Harry found himself joining in. Lily smiled, too. Clearly, she had long ago gotten over any lingering resentment over the event.  
  
"I can't believe he would do that," Parvati said. "James Potter is just so dreamy. Sophisticated and gorgeous..."  
  
"And annoying," Lily cut in with a smile. "Trust me. He made it one of his number one goals for our seven years in school to torment me as much as humanly possible."  
  
Parvati shook her head in disbelief. "I just can't believe that. He doesn't seem like that at all."  
  
"Maybe he isn't anymore," Lily conceded. "I haven't seen him in many years, and we are both adults now. Maybe he's changed. In any event, I've long since put old school grudges behind me, and I'd like to think he has, too."  
  
Harry was smiling to himself, thinking of his would be mother and father fighting over candy on the train when the photograph on Lily's desk caught his eye. Young Sirius, a mischievous grin on his face, leaned over and kissed a surprised Young Lily squarely on the mouth.  
  
He felt a sick sensation in his stomach as the Young Sirius turned from his fiancé and grinned out at him. He had done what he promised himself he wouldn't; he had allowed himself to begin to think of this woman as his mother, but she very clearly wasn't. This woman was married to Sirius Black, not James Potter, and had never had a child called Harry.  
  
"I..." he began, pulling himself to his feet. "I've got to go now. It was... it was nice to meet you..."  
  
With a last glance around the room, he let go of the arms of his chair, wobbled a second without the support, and ran from the room. He could feel three sets of eyes staring after him as he pushed open the door and found himself again in the main entry room of the museum.  
  
The young wizard working as receptionist was chatting up a pretty young witch perched on the edge of the desk in front of him. Neither of them took any notice of Harry as he darted quickly across the circular room and heaved himself out of the main entrance doors. The sunlight nearly blinded him for a moment as he stepped outside, but his eyes quickly adjusted and he glanced around the busy Hogsmeade street in front of him. Distressed as he was, he had forgotten that the world was functioning normally for everybody else.  
  
Neville, his arm around a girl Harry didn't recognize, passed in front of the museum and waved towards Harry. Weakly, Harry returned the gesture. He could hear someone walking across the floor of the museum and took off running again before anyone could catch up with him.  
  
He pushed his way through the crowd made up mostly of students as his feet pounded against the ground and took him closer and closer to the edge of the village. He glanced around and saw that he was near the cave where he, Ron, and Hermione had met up with Sirius the year before in his own world. Breathing heavily, he made his way towards the cave, hoping he remembered where it was.  
  
He found that he did and soon found himself at the entrance. He checked inside carefully to make sure it was empty and, finding that it was, crept inside and collapsed against the wall. He tried to catch his breath as tears came to his eyes and he finally let them fall. He had hoped all his life to meet his mother and now he had come as close as he ever would. It was almost as if all his dreams had been burst in one moment; as wonderful as this Lily had been, it was obvious that she wasn't his true mother and never would be. Somehow, in all the madness that his arrival in this world had caused, it had never occurred to him that he might be able to meet this world's version of his parents, and that they would be so obviously different.  
  
He clutched his knees to his chest, hung his head and, for the first time in a very long time, allowed himself to really cry  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Eight: 'The First Attack'  
  
- Professor Black shook his head, a smile on his face. "You are a complicated boy, aren't you, Harry?"  
  
"I don't mean to be. It just happens."  
  
"I'm not accusing you," Sirius said with a chuckle. "It just seems that while the rest of us lead our fairly ordinary lives, yours ends up being more believable as the plot of a novel than as reality. Your being here at all is proof of that."  
  
- "... sorry to disturb you, but the Headmistress is away in London, as you know, called to a meeting in the Ministry. We don't know when she'll be back - you know that - but this couldn't wait."  
  
"Calm down, Peter," Sirius said as he stood up and now towered over the frantic man. "Take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."  
  
Pettigrew began to follow these instructions, but only got as far as the deep breath before he was frantic again. "You've got to come now, Professor. I don't think I can explain..." 


	8. The First Attack

Chapter Eight: 'The First Attack'  
  
At precisely 8:55 the following Thursday evening, Harry stepped through the portrait hole and into the hallway in front of the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady, who looked as though she and her friends had recently been sharing a drink, gave him a wave and a smile. He returned the gesture and started off down the hallway.  
  
Though he knew he was supposed to be in the hall, Harry checked that no one was around before starting down the staircase to the second floor. He went left down the second floor hallway and found the third door on the right. He grabbed the handle, pushed it open just a crack, and peered inside. Sure enough, it was the room he was looking for.  
  
It was an office, slightly smaller than a classroom. Sirius Black was sitting at a desk on the far side of the room, reading over some parchment in front of him. He glanced up as the door creaked and smiled at Harry. "Good. Just on time. Come on in." Harry pushed the door all the way open and stepped in; then he closed it behind him. Professor Black waved him over and Harry slid into one of two chairs facing the professor's desk. "I see you found your way all right?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry nodded.  
  
"Good." Black shuffled some papers on his desk and indicated them with his quill. "I know I said we'd start our lessons precisely at nine, but I do have a few more papers to mark, if you don't mind?" Harry shook his head, and Sirius smiled. "Okay. I'll be just a minute."  
  
Harry settled himself comfortably in the chair and glanced around the room. There were several posters on the wall depicting transfiguration techniques; above the desk, a Hogwarts diploma hung next to a Ravenclaw house crest. The floor was covered with a lush carpet that felt nice under Harry's feet and much of the wall space not covered by posters was taken up by shelves full of books and other knickknacks.  
  
An opening of a drawer drew Harry's attention back to Black. The professor had finished his work and was stuffing the papers into a makeshift filing system in his desk. He cleared off his quills and ink and turned to Harry. He absentmindedly placed his wand along with the quills into what looked like an ordinary Muggle pencil cup. "All right then. Shall we begin?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."  
  
Professor Black stood up, glanced around for a moment, located his wand, and grabbed it with a chuckle. He walked over to an empty area of the room, near the door, and indicated that Harry should follow. Harry jumped up, pulled out his own wand, and joined his professor on the floor where he was now sitting.  
  
"How have you been, Harry, by the way?" Black asked, a concerned look in his eyes.  
  
"I've been fine," Harry responded. Somehow, he thought Professor Black didn't look convinced.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes. As far as I know. Why?"  
  
Black shook his head. "Oh, no reason. Did you enjoy yourself in Hogsmeade last weekend?" Harry shrugged indecisively and Black seemed to find proof for his concerns in this. "I was talking to my wife the other day. Well, I talk to her every day, of course, but this time in particular, she mentioned having met you."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Hermione and Parvati and I went to her museum."  
  
"Uh huh." Professor Black nodded. "Did you see the exhibits?" Harry could tell Professor Black knew the answer already, but responded anyway.  
  
"No, Professor." He sighed. "We didn't. We went to see your wife. I hope you don't mind."  
  
Black chuckled. "Not at all. She and Hermione seem to be pretty good friends; Hermione is there nearly every Hogsmeade weekend. What interests me, though, is why you wanted to visit her. And, more precisely, why you were apparently terrified of her."  
  
Harry gulped in a large breath of air. He had dreaded the possibility of this coming up. It hadn't been something he had considered before going to meet Lily Black, but from the time he returned to Hogwarts, it had been weighing heavily on his mind. He had been glad when Professor Black hadn't mentioned it in class, but apparently that hadn't meant he was in the clear.  
  
"I..." He paused. He couldn't think of anything reasonable to say. He couldn't even say that he hadn't been terrified by her because, by all outward appearances, he had. And, if he was honest with himself, looks hadn't been deceiving - he had been scared of her.  
  
"You knew her." Black said. It was a firm statement, not a question. Harry was beginning to think that this professor was too smart for his own good - or at the very least, for his students' good. "You knew her, in your own world and, as with me, you were terrified of being confronted with an alternate version of her." Professor Black glanced at Harry for confirmation of his theory.  
  
Harry shrugged. "That's not exactly true."  
  
"No?"  
  
"I didn't exactly know her." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "But the rest of your little theory was pretty much true. The 'fear of being confronted with an alternate version of her' thing."  
  
Professor Black shook his head, a smile on his face. "You are a complicated boy, aren't you, Harry?"  
  
"I don't mean to be. It just happens."  
  
"I'm not accusing you," Professor Black said with a chuckle. "It just seems that while the rest of us lead our fairly ordinary lives, yours ends up being more believable as the plot of a novel than as reality. Your being here at all is proof of that."  
  
Harry thought about that for a second. He supposed Professor Black had a fair point, though he couldn't really see why anyone would want to read about his life. "It doesn't seem like it to me, I guess. I've never known anything else."  
  
"At least, when you're dead and gone, you'll be able to say you've led a full, interesting life. That's something many people wish for, you know." Black twirled his wand in his fingers, thinking. "All right, I won't pester you too much at the moment for running from my wife. But I know this whole transition has been hard for you; there's no way it couldn't be. So, if you don't mind - and even if you do - I'll be keeping an eye on you, making sure you're okay. And don't try to tell me you are when you aren't."  
  
Harry, having rarely ever had anyone willing and able to look after him, was in equal parts thrilled and annoyed by Black's interest in his emotions. Still, he supposed, if someone was going to be keeping an eye on him, better Professor Black than Professor Riddle. With a weak smile, Harry said, "Okay."  
  
"Good. Settled. Conversation over." Harry somehow doubted this last statement was true, but didn't bother to think about it as Sirius lifted his wand and pointed it at him. "Now, down to business. I'm pretty much willing to blame your being behind on a slower paced curriculum at your old school. But, just in case it's because your professor was incompetent, we're going to start with the basics, things like wand position."  
  
Harry snorted. "My professor was Professor McGonagall. I got the idea you kind of respected her."  
  
Black raised an eyebrow and scrunched up his nose. "Professor McGonagall as in Headmistress McGonagall?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Only, she's just Deputy Headmistress there."  
  
"Right. Because your Headmaster is this Dumbledore fellow?" Black looked to Harry for confirmation, so he nodded quickly. "I've been meaning to ask Lil if she's ever heard of him. Speaking of which, she gave Miss Patil and Miss Granger advice for their history projects, and was wondering if you wanted some help as well?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. He had forgotten about that. "Well, sure. My report is supposed to be on Addy Adamson. I've never heard of him, and somehow, I got the impression that I should have."  
  
Professor Black chuckled. "I'm guessing Mr. Longbottom made you feel stupid for not knowing that one?" Harry nodded his agreement. "I expect he was jealous that he didn't get that name. Addy Adamson is an English Quidditch hero, a Seeker. He won the World Cup for England in 1894, the last time we made it to the finals. My daughter could probably help you out on that one; she's Quidditch mad. But I'll mention it to Lily for you."  
  
"Thanks." Harry beamed. He was continually surprised about how accepting and welcoming everyone had been to him and his strange situation. If someone had come to him with the same story, he suspected he would have laughed him right out of the room.  
  
"Now," Sirius interrupted Harry's thoughts, "we really ought to get down to business. The clock is ticking. I want you to put your wand in your wand hand how you would normally hold it..."  
  
As Harry was adjusting his wand in his right hand - he had never felt so self-conscious about the way he held the wand - a loud, frantic knocking began at the door. Black rolled his eyes, said a quick apology to Harry, and yelled in the direction of the door, "Come in!"  
  
The knocking ceased immediately and the doorknob turned. As the door creaked open, Peter Pettigrew peeked his head into the room cautiously. He first looked at the desk and, seeing no one there, turned to find Professor Black and Harry sitting on the ground.  
  
"Ah, Peter," Black said in a cordial but impatient tone. "What can I do for you?"  
  
Harry glared at Pettigrew, but the squib caretaker, focused completely on the professor, took not notice. Harry found that his hatred for the Pettigrew in the other world hadn't allowed him to see this man as a separate person. Every time he passed him in a hallway, he found himself wanting to seek revenge on this more vulnerable Pettigrew, but kept himself in check with the thought that it would not be nearly as satisfying as hurting the man who had really taken his parents.  
  
Meanwhile, as Harry was thinking, Black and Pettigrew were talking. Harry began to listen to their conversation when he picked up on the frantic tone in the caretaker's voice.  
  
"... sorry to disturb you, but the Headmistress is away in London, as you know, called to a Ministry meeting. We don't know when she'll be back - you know that - but this couldn't wait."  
  
"Calm down, Peter," Black said as he stood up and now towered over the frantic man. "Take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."  
  
Pettigrew began to follow these instructions, but only got as far as the deep breath before he was frantic again. "You've got to come now, Professor. I don't think I can explain..."  
  
"All right," Black said with a sigh. "Lead the way."  
  
Pettigrew started to the door with Professor Black following closely behind. After a moment's deliberation, Harry picked himself up off the floor and hurried out the door after them.  
  
Pettigrew walked more quickly than Harry would have supposed his short legs could have carried him. Having let the adults get a head start, Harry found he had to jog to catch up. He hung a little ways back, though, under the fear that Professor Black might send him away if he knew the boy was following.  
  
They went up a flight of stairs, turned down a hallway to the left, and then took a right. As the three of them rounded this final corner, Pettigrew began to slow down and Harry saw what he assumed was the source of concern: a rat's body was laying still by the wall and, judging by Pettigrew's state of mind, he assumed the rat was dead. This assumption was confirmed as they got closer, but Harry couldn't imagine why a dead rat would warrant the attention of the Deputy Headmaster of the school. Professor Black was clearly thinking the same thing.  
  
"I'm very sorry about your rat, Peter," he began, "Really, I am. But, let's face it - rats don't live very long. I don't see how this concerns..."  
  
Professor Black stopped short as his gaze followed the direction Pettigrew's hand was pointing. Words were painted in red that Harry thought might be blood on the wall opposite the rat, but it wasn't the blood that made Harry gasp and step backwards in shock. He tripped over his own feet and fell unceremoniously to the floor, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Black and Pettigrew whirled around at the sound of Harry's body falling to the floor. They both looked surprised to see him, and Harry wondered if he had really moved that stealthily behind them. He decided they had probably just forgotten about him in their shock at the situation and found he was hoping it did not say what he thought he had read on that wall. Black strode over to the boy, offered a hand, and pulled him to his feet. "Are you okay, Harry?"  
  
Harry made a motion with his head that felt like it was somewhere between shaking no and nodding yes. He found he was slightly dizzy as he walked closer to the wall and read the words to himself again.  
  
"Enemies of the Heir Beware. The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened," Pettigrew read in a strained voice. "What does that even mean?"  
  
"I," Professor Black began and then stopped for a moment. Finally he spoke again, "I honestly have no idea." He walked over and looked at the dead rat's body. "We'll have to have someone check your rat, of course, to see if it died of something other than... well, than whatever rats normally die of."  
  
Harry took a step backwards, muttering to himself, "Basilisk... Petrified... Hermione..." Memories of second year were flooding through his brain, but he couldn't seem to force any of them into spoken words that might help the professor.  
  
Neither Pettigrew nor Black seemed to hear Harry. Pettigrew had actually started crying over the rat, which Harry at first thought was silly, but then realized he might well do the same if the animal in question was Hedwig. Black was poking at the rat and seemed utterly perplexed by it.  
  
Finally, the Deputy Headmaster stood up. He surveyed the hallway around him, clearly not sure what he was looking for. After a moment, he turned to Pettigrew. "I need you to seal off this hallway. No one, yourself included, is to go in and out of here once you have done that. I mean no one. I will owl Professor McGonagall immediately; I want her to see this, but once she does, I want you to clean up this mess. If there's nothing here to be seen, it will deter students from coming down here. I will see if Madame Pomfrey has any expertise regarding animal death; I highly doubt she does, so we'll probably have to call in an outside expert to look at the rat. Once you seal off the hallway, do drop him off in my office, all right? The desk will do fine. Can you do all that?"  
  
Pettigrew nodded and sniffled, a tear running down his cheek. Harry supposed it would be quite hard to disobey the Deputy Headmaster when he was in this authoritative mode.  
  
Black started off down the hallway, and then seemed to notice Harry as if for the first time again. "Potter. Are you all right? Steady on your feet, and all? I know this has been shocking."  
  
Harry tried to speak, but words still wouldn't come out. He nodded instead.  
  
"Good. I need you to go back to Gryffindor common room. Go directly back. No stopping on the way, no trying anything foolish. Do you understand me?" Harry nodded again. "I would walk you back myself, but I really need to get right to owling Minerva. Maybe Peter could walk you?"  
  
"No!" Harry said loudly, suddenly finding his voice. "I mean, I'll just..." He motioned toward the hallway they had come from. Black nodded and Harry turned and walked off in that direction. Black stayed back to talk to Pettigrew for a bit longer, and then headed back to his office. Harry could hear the footsteps not far behind.  
  
His mind was reeling. He knew for a fact he should have said something; this was too like what had happened in his second year for it to be a funny coincidence. He knew that what he knew might be useful, but somehow his voice wouldn't work when he had needed it.  
  
He hadn't even thought that this school might have a Chamber of Secrets, too, and that this Chamber of Secrets might have a basilisk. It had never occurred to him that someone might set it loose on the school. And then the worst thought of all occurred to him: they might suspect him. He felt fairly certain that nothing like this had ever happened here before. And then, just weeks after his arrival, ominous messages appear on the walls and rats turn up dead? He knew this was going to get bad.  
  
Quickening his pace to a jog, Harry resolved to speak up before people had the chance to begin laying blame.  
  
Soon, the Gryffindor common room came into sight. "Back so soon?" the Fat Lady greeted him pleasantly.  
  
"Chocolate frogs," he panted out the new password, not in the mood for small talk. With a huff, she allowed him in. Harry was glad to find the common room was nearly empty. A couple - possibly Neville and the girl he had seen her with in Hogsmeade - were cuddled in one corner, nearly hidden in the shadows, and Hermione was seated in her usual spot on her study sofa, but it was otherwise deserted.  
  
Catching his breath, he collapsed onto the sofa next to Hermione. She finished scribbling a line on her History of Magic essay, put down her quill and closed her ink, and turned to him. She was about to open with a friendly greeting but the words caught in her mouth at the distressed expression on his face.  
  
"What's happened?"  
  
"It's..." He was about to say that it was just like second year all over again when he realized that this Hermione wouldn't make the obvious connection and he would have to explain more than he was in the mood for. He reworded quickly. "It's happening again. No, not the right thing to say, either... I don't know how to even talk about it... and I don't know how to stop it this time."  
  
Hermione looked justifiably confused. She cut through his mumbled nonsense and got straight to the point. "What's happening again?"  
  
"They'll have to tell the whole school. What if it's a human next time? It's not safe!"  
  
"Harry!" She grabbed his face and turned him to face her.  
  
He shook his head and tried to focus his full attention on her. He looked her right in the eyes. "Promise me something, Hermione."  
  
"Anything."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "I know we've only known each other for a little while, but you trust me, right?" She nodded, still looking confused. "Bad things are happening. Well, they're going to happen. I think. But you've got to believe me - I had nothing to do with it."  
  
"What things did you have nothing to do with?" Hermione was beginning to look as frantic as Harry felt.  
  
"I didn't do anything. Honestly. I didn't before, and I really didn't now. But since I'm new and no one really knows anything about me, they might think... You're the best friend I've got, Hermione. I can't lose you over this." Harry turned pleading eyes toward her.  
  
"Over what, Harry?" She pushed all of her schoolbooks out of the way and scooted even closer to him. He slumped back against the side of the sofa and buried his face in his hands.  
  
"You don't even want to know."  
  
"Well." She looked curiously at him. "Well, I really do want to know. But, Harry, how could you ever think I would think you had done something bad?" She reached over and pulled his hands away from his face.  
  
He looked up and smiled at her. "You really are the greatest, you know that, Hermione?" She blushed, but he didn't notice. "We don't have any tests tomorrow, do we?" She shook her head. "And that essay..."  
  
"Due next week."  
  
"Okay, then I think I'm going to bed now." He jumped from the sofa and headed for the stairs.  
  
Hermione glanced at her watch and then called out, "At 9:45?"  
  
He didn't respond. She spent a few minutes staring at the empty staircase he had disappeared up. Wondering about her strange new friend, Hermione turned back to her homework.  
  
Harry pulled back his bed curtains and collapsed onto his bed, still fully dressed. As he kicked off his shoes, he heard Colin asking if he was all right, but he didn't acknowledge him. He extinguished his bedside light and pulled the curtains around him.  
  
But Harry didn't go to sleep for several more hours. He made himself comfortable on the bed and laid quietly thinking into the night.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter 9: 'Harry's Story'  
  
- Feet came stomping towards the door and if the boys had been thinking they would have moved, but they had no such lucky forethought. As Sirius wrenched the door open, they all fell forward and landed at his feet. A surprised and amused expression on his face, the Deputy Headmaster addressed them, "Mr. Symmons, Mr. Symmons, and Mr. Potter. What a pleasant surprise."  
  
- "Whatever was causing these... petrifications... was coming from the Chamber of Secrets?" Sirius's voice was tense.  
  
Harry swung around to face Professor Black. "It was. It was a Basilisk, left there by Slytherin, when he created the Chamber."  
  
"A Basilisk? In the school?" Professor Riddle gasped. 


	9. Harry's Story

Chapter Nine: 'Harry's Story'  
  
A school-wide alarm at six o'clock in the morning roused the entire population of young wizards at Hogwarts School on the morning after Peter Pettigrew's rat had been found dead in mysterious circumstances. The alarm had been accompanied by the strict instructions that each and every student should report to the Great Hall at precisely 7 AM. Any students not complying, the alarm had said, would be immediately brought under suspicion. Exact details of what they would be suspected of, however, had been omitted, leaving most students in an anxious - and annoyed - state.  
  
Harry, who was all too aware of the circumstances behind the alarm, rolled bleary eyed from his bed. He hadn't fallen asleep until the early hours of the morning and he found his body protesting the idea of starting the day.  
  
"Bloody hell." He heard Neville's voice moan. "Six in the morning. Didn't even know that hour actually existed."  
  
A grunt of agreement came from the direction of Seamus's bed. He saw the boy's feet hit the floor and a sandy head make its way towards the bathroom as Harry swung his own legs over the edge of his four-poster. He was surprised, at first, to find himself still clad in the previous day's attire, but then remembered stumbling into the room after his conversation with Hermione.  
  
Harry followed his roommates into their shared bathroom and found himself a spot in front of a sink. Had he been fully awake, he might have noticed how terrible he looked, but in his zombie-like state, the dark circles that somehow seemed to dominate the whole of his face beneath his eyes slipped past his notice.  
  
"Wonder what's going on..." Dean muttered as he stuck his toothbrush in his mouth.  
  
"McGonagall's probably got a new bug up her arse," Neville scoffed, settling himself at the sink next to Harry. "Holy Merlin, Potter, you look like shit!" Harry glanced up and caught Neville's eye in the mirror. "What's wrong with you? You went to bed so early last night!"  
  
Harry grabbed his tube of toothpaste and gave it a violent squeeze. More ended up in the sink than on his toothbrush, which he jammed promptly into his mouth. "Nothing's wrong," he mumbled.  
  
"Nothing's wrong?" Seamus was suddenly beside Harry. "You went to bed earlier than most five year olds last night and somehow manage to still look as though you haven't slept in ages, but nothing's wrong?" Harry spit his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and splashed cold water across his face. Water running down his nose, he straightened up and turned to face his roommates.  
  
"I just... I don't want to talk about it, all right?"  
  
With a glare at all of them, he stalked out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the common room.  
  
A bunch of wide-eyed first year students were already downstairs looking far too awake for the early hour of the morning. A group of third year girls were seated on Hermione's normal study sofa chattering away and Harry saw Fred and George leaning half asleep against the opposite wall, still dressed in their pajamas, complete with bed hair. Eyes scanning the rest of the room, Harry caught sight of Hermione, Padma, and Parvati sitting on the floor near the portrait hole looking far less put together than they normally did. He walked over and joined them.  
  
"Do you know what's going on?" Parvati asked him before he had even had the chance to finish sitting down. "You'd think Padma would know, being a prefect and all," she paused to glare at her sister, "but somehow she doesn't."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "Why would you think I would know?" He realized too late that his tone was too edgy and self-defensive. With a light blush, he glanced down at his hands.  
  
"I'm not accusing you," Parvati said, sounding taken aback. "Just wondering is all."  
  
"She's asked everyone who's come within hearing range," Hermione said. Harry glanced up at her and caught her eye. She smiled gently at him and he knew that she hadn't told her roommates about his strange behavior the night before. After a second, he returned the smile.  
  
Two human-sized shadows fell over the four of them and Harry glanced up to see Fred and George hovering over them. "C'mon mate." Fred reached his hands down and pulled Harry and Padma to their feet. George did the same for the other two girls as Katie Bell, the Head Girl, called everyone to attention.  
  
"Now, I have no more idea than any of you lot as to what is going on," Katie called over the crowd of virtually every Gryffindor student. "Nor do I want to be awake now anymore than the rest of you do. But, Professor McGonagall has returned early from what was apparently very important business, so this must be urgent, as well. I know you all want to go back to bed, but you can't. If you don't show up in the Great Hall in ten minutes, you'll be in trouble, and if you're in trouble, I'm in trouble, which will mean you'll get in even more trouble with me. This is far too early in the morning for me to be lenient. Now, go."  
  
Harry figured Katie's speech might have carried more weight had she not yawned at least four times while making it, but it hardly mattered as no one seemed to be in the mood to disobey anyway.  
  
Katie and a friend of hers pushed their way out of the portrait hole. Fred and George hurried behind them, leaving Harry with the three girls.  
  
"I guess we'd better go," Padma said while stifling a yawn of her own. "See what this is all about..."  
  
Parvati nodded her agreement and the two girls filed into the hallway. Hermione hung back and turned to Harry once the other two girls were out of hearing range.  
  
"Are you all right, Harry?"  
  
"Yes," he said with a nod. "I mean, as all right as I can be on no sleep."  
  
She glared at him. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. You were really upset last night. Is everything sorted out?" Her eyes widened in shock, as though suddenly realizing what Harry knew the other Hermione would have figured out long ago. "This thing, this morning, it's to do with whatever you were upset about..."  
  
"Let's get a move on, kids." Neville pushed between them before Harry could answer. The other fifth year boys were right behind him; Harry shrugged lightly in response to Hermione and the two of them left the common room as well.  
  
The Great Hall was nearly packed by the time Harry and Hermione found seats together at the Gryffindor table. Harry glanced around him and noticed that the only students who appeared to be awake at all were sitting at the Ravenclaw table. He figured with half a laugh that they were probably up studying at this hour on a regular basis anyway.  
  
Professor McGonagall was in her seat at the center of the Head Table, a pensive expression on her face. Professor Riddle, looking equally worried, was seated on her left, but the seat on her right, where Professor Black normally sat, was empty. Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion but, glancing back at the Ravenclaw table, he saw Black talking to a young girl who he thought might have been his daughter, though clearly not the one he had seen in Hogsmeade, as this girl had long, black hair.  
  
The clanging of a piece of silverware against a goblet quieted the Great Hall as everyone turned to look at the Headmistress. Professor Black left his daughter and hurried to take his seat as Professor McGonagall stood up.  
  
"I have some very serious, very grave news," she began. Those students who had still been chattering ended their conversations immediately. "Last night, Mr. Pettigrew's rat was found dead on a corridor on the third floor of the school."  
  
Before she could say anymore, the student body burst into a combination of condescending laughter and relieved conversation.  
  
"Silence!" a voice roared over the din. The students looked up to see their Deputy Headmaster glaring down at them.  
  
"Normally," Professor McGonagall continued tersely, "I would not take this any more seriously than any of you seem to. However, there is distinct evidence that this rat did not die of natural causes. We have good reason to believe that foul play was involved. An ominous message - I do not think I would be out of bounds to class it a threat - was scrawled on the wall above the rat in a substance that we have now identified as blood." She paused and took a deep breath. "We have not yet been able to identify what has killed the rat. In order to ensure that nothing like this happens again, the area has been blocked off and will remain that way. Any student trying to sneak into the area will find themselves immediately expelled." She took another deep breath. "I cannot stress enough the seriousness of this situation. It was only a dead rat this time; it could be a dead student the next."  
  
She stopped talking again and sat down this time. Harry could tell, even from his seat, that she was rattled by the events of last night.  
  
Professor Black spoke next. "Classes will continue as usual. You are dismissed to continue getting ready for the day ahead. Breakfast will be served as per normal, and the day will continue as if it were any other day. However, for safety's sake, I am suggesting and in fact requiring that no student move about the school on his or her own. Whenever in the hallways, you are to be in pairs or groups, and I advise you to be constantly alert."  
  
As the students began to chat again, this time in hushed voices, the professors left the Head Table. Harry pulled himself to his feet and Hermione got up next to him. "Did you see..." Hermione began, but Harry cut her off with a shake of his head. She glanced around at the masses of students around them and nodded. He didn't want everyone to suspect him.  
  
Harry and Hermione followed their fellow Hogwarts students out of the Great Hall.  
  
"Wait up, Harry!" one of the twins called as he stepped through the doors. He and Hermione turned and saw the twins approach. "We need to talk to you," Fred continued. Harry nodded and Fred turned to Hermione. "Just to Harry, if you don't mind."  
  
Hermione looked mildly insulted but turned away and caught up with Colin, Dean, and Seamus.  
  
The three boys waited as the rest of the student body filed out of the Great Hall. Once they were alone, George spoke, "We don't want you to think... I mean, we don't think you had anything to do with this, Harry."  
  
"We trust you, mate, and we don't trust people not worthy of it."  
  
"Thanks..." Harry began.  
  
George glanced furtively over his shoulder and pulled Harry to a more private area of the entrance hall. "The thing is..."  
  
"The thing is," Fred interrupted. "Nothing like this has ever happened before. Ever ever ever."  
  
"We don't want to think you did anything wrong, but you've got to admit it's kind of funny." George shook his head. "Thousand years of the school, nothing like this happens, three months since you arrive, and we've got a dead rat."  
  
Fred shrugged his shoulders. "You've got to admit it's suspicious."  
  
Harry nodded his head slowly. "I know. It sounds pretty bad, doesn't it? But... you've got to believe me, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. I mean... I knew people would suspect me, when I saw..."  
  
"You saw it!" Fred exclaimed.  
  
"Well." Harry sighed. "I didn't see it, exactly. I was with Siri... Professor Black when Pettigrew came to get him, and I followed them, and I saw the rat, and the... the message on the wall."  
  
Fred's eyes widened. "What did it say?"  
  
Harry glanced at his feet. "Enemies of the Heir Beware. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened," he mumbled.  
  
"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" George asked.  
  
"It's a, well, secret chamber that Salazar Slytherin left in the school for his heir to, you know, wreak havoc on the school with."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Harry sighed. "I had really better go talk to Professor McGonagall, hadn't I?"  
  
Fred and George glanced at each other, then turned to Harry. "We'll go with you," George volunteered. "So you don't have to be alone and all, get in trouble for it or anything."  
  
"Thanks." Harry nodded.  
  
The three boys set out in the direction of the Headmistress's office together. Harry was dragging his feet a bit, dreading yet again the idea the McGonagall would not believe him, think he was responsible, and would want to kick him out.  
  
Fred and George, who were both walking at normal paces, frequently had to slow down and wait for Harry to catch up. Though they did trust their new friend, they were both a bit worried about his strange behavior. They were also both surprised to find that Harry knew the way to the office already. After a few minutes, they found themselves in front of the securely closed entrance.  
  
"Ah, man," Fred moaned. "Forgot there's a password. Any ideas, George?"  
  
"Skittles," Harry said from behind him and the twins watched in shock as the entrance opened for them. Shrugging their shoulders in acceptance of another of Harry's oddities, they followed the younger boy up the staircase.  
  
The door to Professor McGonagall's office was closed when the boys reached the top of the staircase, but they could hear voices debating heatedly on the other side. By silent decision, the three boys stepped close and pressed their ears to the door to better hear the goings on inside.  
  
"We've got to close the school, no question!" Professor Black's voice bellowed. "It's not safe. If whatever killed that rat is still around, and I can't see any proof that it isn't, it could be a student who is killed next. For Merlin's sake, it could be one of my daughters!"  
  
Professor McGonagall spoke next. "Sirius, I understand that you are worried. I am, too. But we have to be sensible..."  
  
"It's sensible to close the school!"  
  
"... and be reasonable," the Headmistress continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. "We cannot close the school on the spur of the moment without the support of the governors, and one dead rat is not going to convince them."  
  
"Will one dead student work?"  
  
The boys could hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. Then, another voice could be heard. "I have to agree with Sirius here, Minerva." It was Professor Riddle.  
  
There was silence for what seemed like an eternity to the three boys pressed against the door. Then, they could hear the voices again, but talking too quietly to be intelligible from the staircase. Then, out of nowhere, Professor Black shouted, "You can't not do something, Minerva."  
  
Feet came stomping towards the door and if the boys had been thinking they would have moved, but they had no such lucky forethought. As Professor Black wrenched the door open, they all fell forward and landed at his feet. A surprised and amused expression on his face, the Deputy Headmaster addressed them, "Mr. Symmons, Mr. Symmons, and Mr. Potter. What a pleasant surprise."  
  
Harry glanced up warily. Professor McGonagall was seated behind her desk, the cat called Pandora prancing back and forth across it, blissfully unaware of the previous night's events. Professor Riddle was sitting in a chair opposite the desk. The other chair was abandoned halfway across the room; Harry figured Professor Black must have pushed it there when he stood up in anger.  
  
"Gentlemen," Professor McGonagall began, waving them into the room. The three boys scurried to their feet and made their way into the room, brushing their clothes off and trying to look respectable. "Is there anything I can help you lot with? I must impress upon you three that I have urgent matters to attend to, so if yours isn't..."  
  
"It's Harry, really," George said with a nod of his head towards the younger boy. "Fred and I just came so as to stop him from having to wander alone in the hallways."  
  
Professor McGonagall nodded. She didn't seem surprised that it should be Harry who needed to speak with her. "And I thank you for doing so," she addressed the twins, "but if you have nothing more to say, I suggest the two of you return to your dormitory. I daresay you might care to get dressed before classes begin?"  
  
Fred and George looked down in unison and seemed to realize for the first time that they were still dressed in pajamas, bathrobes, and slippers. Their attire had slipped Harry's memory, too. "Right you are, Professor," Fred said with a wink and a smile. "We'll just be off, then." With that, the two boys disappeared out the doorway and Harry could hear their feet going down the staircase.  
  
Professor Black shut the door behind the twins and motioned for Harry to take the seat he had vacated. Harry slid into the seat and looked cautiously at the Headmistress.  
  
There being no more empty chairs in the room, Black stood behind Harry and placed his hands on the back of the chair. Harry was reminded for just a moment of his time spent in Professor Dumbledore's office just following the Triwizard Tournament. This situation seemed, in its own way, eerily similar to that one. As he tried to push those memories from his mind, he had the fleeting thought that though it seemed ages ago, the third task had only taken place the spring before.  
  
"Mr. Potter." He looked up to see Professor McGonagall looking down at him and realized she had been talking to him for a moment.  
  
"Yes, Professor." He turned his attention fully to her.  
  
Professor McGonagall smiled gently at him. "I assumed, Mr. Potter, that you came here to tell us something, something important, perhaps?"  
  
Harry sat up straighter. "Yes," he began slowly. "It's about the thing... the thing last night, with the rat."  
  
"Professor Black tells me the two of you were together when Mr. Pettigrew fetched him."  
  
"Yes, Professor." He nodded.  
  
"I'm sure that was troubling for you..."  
  
"No." Harry shook his head. Professor McGonagall looked surprised. "I mean, yes," Harry corrected, "it was. But that's not it, that's not what I need to tell you about."  
  
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. She adjusted her glasses and removed the prancing cat from her desk. "Go on, Mr. Potter."  
  
Harry took a deep breath. He glanced over at Professor Riddle, then let his eyes stray to Professor Black behind him, before turning back to the Headmistress. "Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets? I mean, before last night..."  
  
"I have heard mention of it," Professor McGonagall confirmed with a nod of her head. "The governors would hardly have let me become Headmistress of Hogwarts without a working knowledge of the school's mythology. Until Professor Black owled me, however, I was fully willing to pass it off as just that: mythology."  
  
"Are we to understand, then, that it is not?" Black interrupted.  
  
All eyes were back on Harry for the answer to this question. He was beginning to feel really nervous; Professor Riddle's presence was only putting him more on edge.  
  
"No." Harry shook his head, glancing down at his feet. "It's very real," he mumbled, scuffing his left foot lightly along the ground. He heard Pandora hiss as his foot neared the desk, but couldn't see where her hiding place was.  
  
"Harry," Professor McGonagall called his attention away from his feet. "I'm going to need you to tell me how it is that you know the Chamber of Secrets is real. I need you to tell me all that you know about it. I cannot begin to stress how urgent this is."  
  
Professor Riddle shifted in his seat next to Harry. "I don't see why we should take this boy's word on things." He looked at Harry. "Nothing against you, Mr. Potter, but you've only just come to this school. How is it that you know things even the Headmistress does not?"  
  
Harry did not know what to say to that. He assumed that Professor Riddle hadn't been told of his situation.  
  
"I have reasons to put some faith in whatever Mr. Potter might have to say," Professor McGonagall said with a pointed look at her Potions professor.  
  
Harry was surprised to see Professor Riddle acquiesce so willingly to the Headmistress's superior knowledge, but didn't have time to ponder it further as he found himself suddenly expected to be speaking again.  
  
"In my second year, similar things to this happened," Harry began slowly, his eyes on the Headmistress. "First it was the caretaker's cat. Then, there were several students..." At the collective shocked gasps that came from all sides, Harry rethought his words and corrected his mistake, "Oh, no, no one died. Not the cat or the students. They were all petrified, though."  
  
Pandora hopped back onto Professor McGonagall's desk as Harry said the word cat. Absentmindedly, McGonagall began to stroke her and the cat settled happily in the center of a pile of papers.  
  
"Whatever was causing these... petrifications... was coming from the Chamber of Secrets?" Black's voice was tense.  
  
Harry swung around to face Professor Black. "It was. It was a Basilisk, left there by Slytherin himself, when he created the Chamber."  
  
"A Basilisk? In the school?" Professor Riddle gasped.  
  
"How is it that no one died?" Professor McGonagall asked, her hand stopped midway down the perturbed looking cat's back. "A Basilisk's stare is lethal."  
  
Harry turned back to the Headmistress and nodded his head. "Yeah. But everyone was lucky that time. No one saw the gaze full on. It was either in a puddle of water, through a camera, and stuff like that. It was Hermione who figured it out in the end. Well," Harry conceded, "I suppose some of the professors might have known, as well."  
  
"Dare I even ask," Professor Black said, his voice so low Harry thought he wouldn't have been able to hear it if they were any further apart, "why you felt the need to add 'that time' to the end of 'everyone was lucky'?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath and paused for a moment before responding. All eyes on him, he final said, "It happened before."  
  
"Am I to assume that not everyone was so lucky the first time?" Professor McGonagall said, looking Harry right in the eye, "  
  
"There was one victim," Harry said. "She was killed by the Basilisk, saw it dead in the eyes. And she still haunts the school, even fifty years after she died. Without her, we might not have been able to figure out what was going on."  
  
"I am almost afraid to ask, but I have to: Harry, do you know who was behind the attacks?"  
  
Warily, Harry began, "It was the same person each time." Before McGonagall could ask for clarification, Harry said, "I mean, the first time, it was this person, and the second time, it was him controlling another person."  
  
"I need a name, Harry."  
  
Harry took another moment to glance around at the other occupants of the room. Professor Riddle was sitting cross-legged in his chair, looking pensive. Professor Black was still standing behind Harry, gripping the back of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. Professor McGonagall was putting forward a confident face, but Harry could see fear in her eyes as she waited for his answer. Only the cat looked carefree as it lounged on the desk, purring contentedly.  
  
"Mr. Potter..." Professor McGonagall's voice broke him away from his thoughts.  
  
"I..." he began, glancing warily at the man to his side. "I don't want to say."  
  
Professor McGonagall sighed and adjusted her glasses again. "It isn't an option, Mr. Potter. I need to know. It may be a clue as to who is behind what has happened here. It might be a step towards preventing any more deaths."  
  
"I'm not comfortable with..." he muttered, glancing down and peering out of the corner of his eye towards Professor Riddle.  
  
"Harry!" He looked back up to see an angry expression on the Headmistress's face. His eyes widened in shock. "I am not interested in what you are or are not comfortable with. There is a threat to the school, and if you know something, anything, you must tell me." Her tone left no room for argument.  
  
Slowly, making sure never to look at his Potions professor, Harry muttered, "It was Tom Riddle."  
  
"Excuse me!" Professor Riddle's pensive expression was gone, replaced by a shocked one as he jerked up straight in his chair and glanced disbelievingly between Harry and McGonagall. "Are you accusing... I don't believe this. I don't believe you believe him," he snapped at McGonagall. "Obviously he's a bit mad, isn't he, seeming to think I was ever at his old school. Off his rocker."  
  
"Tom!" McGonagall silenced him. "That's quite enough. I will thank you not to make comments about that which you do not understand."  
  
Riddle sank back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, a foul expression on his face. Harry chanced a glance at him, and saw that the professor seemed to be muttering angrily to himself. Harry felt bad and, with a brief vision of Professor Snape, worried for a moment about what he could expect from Potions lessons after this. McGonagall spoke again and he left that thought behind.  
  
"Sirius," she addressed the Deputy Headmaster who looked stricken by what Harry had said. "Would you be so good as to escort Mr. Potter back to his common room?"  
  
"Of course, Minerva." Professor Black released his grip on the chair, but his knuckles still shined bright white. With a wave of his hand, he motioned Harry to his feet and opened the door.  
  
As Professor Black led him down the staircase, Harry could hear Professor Riddle's angry voice from behind them: "I can't believe you would... Minerva, accusing me, ME, of killing a student fifty years ago with a Basilisk I didn't even know existed in a school I've never..."  
  
The voice faded away as Harry and Professor Black made their way out of the secret entrance to the Headmistress's office.  
  
"Don't mind him," Black said with a nod of his head towards Riddle's almost inaudible voice. "Bit of a foul temper. And, of course, he doesn't know that you mean another Tom Riddle entirely."  
  
"You haven't told anyone about my... my situation?"  
  
"We thought it best to keep it quiet," Black said. "Don't even want to think about what the Ministry would do if they found out about students popping up here. Honestly, our world is run by a mixture of incompetent fools and prejudiced assholes... excuse my language."  
  
Harry laughed to himself. "Some things never change, at least."  
  
"I take it the Ministry is similarly run in your world?"  
  
"Yes," Harry confirmed.  
  
Professor Black nodded to himself. He seemed to be lost in thought, so Harry walked silently next to his professor for a while. Finally, he spoke, "Usually Hogwarts is run much better than this. I can't imagine what Minerva... Professor McGonagall to you... is thinking. Damn the governors, there is no choice but to close the school. And after what you've told us! It'll be a student next, and then she'll see."  
  
Harry didn't really know what to say to that. He didn't want to see anyone killed anymore than Professor Black did, but he also didn't have anywhere to go if the school was closed. Finally, he said, "Well, she must have her reasons."  
  
"Yeah." Black snorted. "Her reasons. Playing politics, keeping her job. Those are her reasons. But," he said, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Harry's arm, "I really shouldn't be saying any of this in front of you. I better not hear a word of what I have just said to you being passed around the school."  
  
"Of course not, Professor."  
  
"Good." Black began walking again. "I will, of course, give my full support to Professor McGonagall. There's no way this school can be run with the professors battling each other. We can only hope to be as lucky as they seem to have been at your school the last time."  
  
Harry nodded his agreement. Personally, he hoped they were luckier. Though he thought it unlikely, he found himself hoping that maybe the attack on the rat had simply been a well-organized prank. He hoped that nothing more would happen and that he wouldn't have to go through the horror of seeing his friends petrified, or worse, once again.  
  
He and Professor Black walked the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower in silence. Before Harry realized it, he was standing in front of the Fat Lady, who looked a bit perplexed to see the Professor standing there.  
  
"Well, this is where I leave you, Harry," Black said. "Do hurry and get ready for your classes. And, for Merlin's sake, do be careful today."  
  
"I will," he promised.  
  
Professor Black patted Harry on the shoulder, nodded his goodbye, and disappeared back in the direction he and Harry had come from. Harry watched him until he was out of sight, and then turned back to the portrait. "Chocolate frogs."  
  
The Fat Lady swung right open for him and let Harry through the portrait hole. Harry let himself into the near empty common room and headed for the stairs. He was determined to make himself look presentable, if only to avoid more unwanted questions.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter 10: 'Care of Magical Creatures'  
  
- "Well, he knows Weasley. From work and all. Knows the older kid, too, Percy. Says they're both scum. And tells me not to repeat that, but come on, everyone knows. Dad's wary of anything they do. Doesn't trust either of them."  
  
- "We need to talk about something." His sunny demeanor of a moment ago was gone.  
  
"Okay," Harry said nervously.  
  
"I was looking around in your trunk this morning. I know, I know, I shouldn't have been," he defended himself, arms raised in surrender, before Harry could even comment. "I just wanted to have another look at your Firebolt..."  
  
"You can't be looking through my trunk! I have private things there!" Harry was really quite upset. His textbooks that he was supposed to keep hidden were in the trunk. 


	10. Care of Magical Creatures

Chapter Ten: 'Care of Magical Creatures'  
  
In his hurry to get ready for class, which he now realized would be starting in half an hour, Harry skipped a shower and decided to suffice with washing his face and changing his clothes. Twenty minutes later, he made one more check with the mirror and now saw just how horrid the dark circles under his eyes made him look. Knowing there was nothing to be done about it now, he ran a comb briefly through his hair, abandoned it as an unsuccessful attempt, grabbed his books for class, and hurried out of his dormitory.  
  
On his way out of the dormitory, Harry's eyes glinted briefly off the trunk sitting at the end of his bed. Though he remembered closing it securely, he thought it looked as though the lid might be slightly ajar. Knowing he didn't have the time for a closer look, Harry passed it off as a trick of the imagination due to lack of sleep and made his way to the staircase.  
  
Harry took the steps towards the common room two at a time and quickly found himself in the still-empty room. He knew everyone else was already en route to class; if he didn't get moving as well, he would be late.  
  
Slipping out the portrait hole, Harry set off at a quick pace towards the front doors of the castle. He had Care of Magical Creatures first; Harry had been happy to find that this Hagrid was very similar to the one he knew. What made the class even better than his old one, though, was that the Gryffindors had it alone. There were no Slytherins there to bring down his day.  
  
Turning quickly down a corridor and setting his foot onto the first step of a staircase, he saw what looked like Colin Creevey whizzing by. A moment later, as the boy disappeared out of sight, he heard Professor Black's voice calling, "Mr. Creevey." Harry heard Colin's footsteps come to an abrupt stop and found himself hurrying down the staircase to see what was going on.  
  
Professor Black was striding towards Colin, a vicious expression on his face. "I do believe, Mr. Creevey, that you were told, in fact ordered, not to be alone in the corridors. That'll be..."  
  
Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he found himself jogging up behind Colin. "He wasn't alone, Professor. He was with me."  
  
Black turned disbelieving eyes towards Harry. "While you were still halfway up the staircase?"  
  
Harry gulped and glanced at Colin. "Well, I... I stopped to tie my shoe. Colin must not have noticed, and he got ahead of me. I should've told him..."  
  
"Yes. You should have." Professor Black didn't look like he was fooled, but seemed to drop the matter. "Get on to your class, then, boys. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this time, but don't let it happen again."  
  
Professor Black turned away and quickly disappeared down a nearby hallway. Colin turned to Harry and let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Harry. I owe you big time."  
  
"It's nothing," Harry waved him off. "Just one Gryffindor helping another. Anyway, it would have only been five points off or something."  
  
"Still," Colin countered. "Don't want to get on Black's bad side anytime, but especially not now."  
  
"Very true."  
  
Colin glanced at a watch that had been hidden under his robes. "Damn. Five till. We'll never get there in time. Why can't Professor Hagrid teach his class in the castle, like any normal teacher?"  
  
Harry laughed to himself and said, "Well, he wouldn't very well be able to bring all of his animals into the castle, would he? Hippogriffs, unicorns, and such?"  
  
"I suppose," Colin conceded. "But, this is a magical place. Surely they could work something out."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Maybe."  
  
"Or else," Colin said, as if a light had turned on in his head, "they could teach us to apparate from first year, and we could get there that way."  
  
Harry laughed to himself. "I thought you couldn't apparate or disapparate inside Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right. You know, you sounded like Hermione just then," Colin said. As he mentioned Hermione's name, he blushed slightly. Had Harry not been looking right at the other boy, he probably wouldn't have noticed it, but as he was, he began to wonder if maybe it hadn't been Hermione who Colin had been dressing up for when they went to Hogsmeade. As the thought occurred to him, Harry realized he wasn't sure he liked the idea.  
  
The boys pushed the castle doors open and made their way into the bright daylight. Harry shielded his eyes from the sun as Colin squinted and they both glanced in the direction of their first class.  
  
"Harry," Colin began, "what was your Care of Magical Creatures class like? At your old school, I mean?"  
  
Harry thought for a second. "A lot like this class, actually."  
  
"Was your old professor anything like Hagrid?"  
  
"Oh, quite a bit." Harry tried to suppress a laugh, but found he couldn't. Luckily, Colin didn't seem to read anything in to it.  
  
Colin wrinkled up his nose in thought. "Did he have a thing for, you know, strange animals, too? I mean, I know this is the magical world, so I can't expect it to be all cats and dogs and goldfish, but, really, are blast- ended skrewts necessary?"  
  
Their eyes now fully adjusted to the bright morning sunlight, the two boys made their way companionably towards their first class of the day. Harry was thinking to himself that it seemed all half-giants named Hagrid had a penchant for torturing their students with large, dangerous magical beasts when he realized that Colin was still talking to him. Turning to face the other boy, he caught the tail end of his question.  
  
"... anything like this?"  
  
"What?" Harry asked.  
  
Colin turned to look at Harry, having not noticed that his friend had not been paying attention. "Oh, sorry. I was just wondering, you've told everyone here so little about your other school. What was it like there?"  
  
Harry turned and focused on his feet, wanting to avoid this question at all costs. He kicked a rock along the path in front of them. Unable to think of anything better to say, he muttered, "I'd really rather not talk about it."  
  
Both boys watched as the rock skipped along the dirt and came to a quick halt at the base of a small tree. "Okay, then." Colin found a new rock and kicked it out in front of him. It rolled a few feet and when the boys caught up to it, Harry gave it another kick forward, continuing the makeshift game of football. "Well, do you mind me asking why you changed schools?"  
  
Colin sent the rock bouncing forward again as Harry sighed. He shook his head softly and replied, "It wasn't by choice, I can tell you that. Certain... circumstances... made it where I couldn't go back to my old school."  
  
"Do you miss it?"  
  
Harry, lost in thought, stumbled over the rock that it was his turn to kick. He glanced back at the culprit that had nearly made him fall, and then left it behind and found a new one to kick. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's been a while since I've really had time to think about it, I guess. I mean, there's been so much going on, getting used to being here. And everyone here has been so nice to me. Well," Harry amended, "almost everyone."  
  
"Not the Slytherins," Colin agreed with a cough, having accidentally kicked some dirt up towards his face.  
  
"Definitely not the Slytherins."  
  
Colin nodded. "They can be pretty terrible to me, too. At least you're not a muggle born - or are you?" Harry shook his head no. "Yeah. And they're really horrid towards Hermione. She really gets it the worst. It's terrible, sometimes I just want to smack them..." Colin emphasized his anger by sending the rock flying with a powerful kick. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Luckily, it's only Potions we have with them. To think if we had this class with them! I hear they're just as bad to Professor Hagrid, about his being half-giant and all."  
  
"Are they really?"  
  
Colin nodded quickly. "Especially that Weasley. Thinks he's king of the school, just because his father is so high up in the Ministry."  
  
Harry shuddered inwardly at the mention of Ron's name. In the few months that had passed since his arrival, he had become accustomed to a multitude of things: Sirius a free man and a professor, Hermione an insecure, untalented young witch, and even Colin as a friend. The one thing he hadn't been able to reconcile with his memories of his past life, however, was the idea of Ron Weasley turning out to be just like Draco Malfoy.  
  
He poked gently at a new rock with the toe of his shoe, sending it rolling a few inches ahead. Colin cut in and stole the rock away with a show of skill that made Harry think he might have played football, pre-Hogwarts, and gave it a strong kick into the air. The boys both looked up to watch its flight and were surprised to see that they were right outside Hagrid's hut. The rest of the class was already there and waiting.  
  
Colin gasped in horror as he realized the rock he had kicked was heading on a direct path for their Professor's head. Hagrid was facing away from them, so Harry shushed Colin and pulled him towards their classmates. Both boys released gasps of relief as the rock fell to the ground just short of their Professor and tumbled unnoticed between his legs.  
  
Dean snickered at the two of them as they came to stand next to him. "Close call, that one, eh?"  
  
As the three boys laughed to themselves, Hagrid turned to face the class and smiled to see the new arrivals. "Good, everyone here." As he had done before every class they had had so far, the professor pulled an attendance sheet from his oversized pocket and glanced through it quickly. Satisfied, he crumpled it slightly more than it had already been as he shoved it back into his pocket.  
  
"Professor," Neville piped up. "What'll we be studying now? We have finished with the skrewts, haven't we?"  
  
"Aye, we have," Hagrid confirmed and the class made no effort to suppress their sigh of relief. Hagrid seemed oblivious. "I had planned on moving to dragons next, but as Professor McGonagall has still not agreed to let me keep one at the school, that has been put off yet again. Don't know what her bother is. I could keep perfect care of it, been studying them ever since I was..."  
  
"Professor," Neville interrupted.  
  
Hagrid turned to the boy and suddenly seemed to remember his previous question. "Right, what to study next. A fine question that is, m'boy. Come along class."  
  
Turning again and waving for everyone to follow, Hagrid made his way around to the other side of his cabin. The students hurried behind him, Neville in front as always, and the Patil twins bringing up the rear, treading carefully over the tall grass. They were watching their steps as they went; Harry assumed they were checking for animal droppings. He reckoned it was probably not a bad idea to do so, but found that he couldn't bring himself to care too much about what he got on his shoes.  
  
As they rounded the cabin en masse, a pair of hippogriffs could be seen grazing happily in the pen just behind. Harry saw another one that he thought looked like a baby playing happily in the distance.  
  
"Hippogriffs again?" Seamus questioned, though he didn't sound disappointed. Harry knew they were all thrilled, at the very least, to be done with their last project. "We did those before, in third year."  
  
"Our lesson was cut short," Hagrid responded gruffly. Seamus didn't say another word on the matter, so Harry figured this must have explained a lot to the boy. He, however, was in the dark. A slightly mournful look on his face, Hagrid continued, "We're going to spend some time studying these two hippogriffs, in depth. This will be a group project for this class, and only this class. You two," he indicated Harry and Colin, "take Clover there. Longbottom and Granger, join them. The rest of ye," he indicated the four remaining students, "will work with Striker here."  
  
Harry heard one of the twins, he thought it was Parvati, gasp, "Striker? They get Clover and we get Striker?"  
  
Harry, Colin, Hermione, and Neville made their way to the hippogriff designated Clover as Harry thought to himself that Buckbeak had been a wholly more interesting name for an animal like this.  
  
"Just get to know them for now," Hagrid called as he beckoned the baby hippogriff in his direction. Harry saw what looked like a tear running down the half-giants face, but it was hard to tell as it quickly got lost in his beard.  
  
"Harry," Neville called his attention back to their group, "did you study hippogriffs at your old school at all?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. In third year. Until an... an incident... happened."  
  
"Here, too," Colin said. "It was the best thing we had studied in Care of Magical Creatures, until the slimy Slytherins had to go and screw it up."  
  
"Don't you think it's fitting how 'slimy Slytherin' just flows so nicely?" Neville said with a smirk.  
  
Harry was looking at Hagrid again and now saw for certain that the professor was crying to himself as he ran his hands over the baby hippogriff's coat. He realized that the baby maybe wasn't so young as he had originally thought; it looked to be a year or two at the least.  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked. "I mean, in third year. Did you have class with the Slytherins back then?"  
  
Colin shook his head. "Thank God, no. We've only ever had Potions with them. And like I said, that's more than bad enough."  
  
"So, what did happen?"  
  
Neville glanced around warily, as if expecting a so-called 'slimy Slytherin' to be sneaking around and listening. Confirming that no one else was within hearing range, he began, "It wasn't even in class time. And I don't know exactly what happened, but I saw a bit of it. It was Gryffindor's Quidditch practice time, but somehow things got mixed up, and Ravenclaw had the field. So we came to practice flying around a bit over on that field," he indicated an area just past the pen where the hippogriffs were being held. "Then, we heard this yelp, coming from this direction. Wood... Oliver Wood, that is, our old keeper, was the closest and he caught them before they could get away. It was Weasley and Malfoy, hiding around here to spy on us."  
  
"What does that have to do with Hagrid?"  
  
Colin picked up where Neville left off. "One of the hippogriffs, his name was Buckbeak, took a bite out of Weasley's arm." Harry tried not to let any recognition show on his face at the mention of the hippogriff's name. "Well, not bite so much as nip. Didn't want him spying on us, I guess. And he really wasn't hurt that much, either..."  
  
Neville, clearly not liking not being the center of attention, butted back in, "So, Weasley took it to dear old Daddy - of course. His father made a big fuss about it, there was a trial, long story short: the hippogriff got the axe. Literally."  
  
Harry heard Hermione sniff behind him and turned to see her wiping a tear from her cheek.  
  
"Just like that?" Harry turned back to Colin and Neville. "He wasn't even hurt, but they execute Buckbeak just like that?" he asked, though he knew very well just how easily things like that could happen.  
  
"With men like Arthur Weasley involved," Neville spat the name, "all kinds of things can happen."  
  
"The incident at your school," Colin piped up. Harry was beginning to feel that this boy was all too interested in his past. "What happened there?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Similar, really. A boy got bit, but he wasn't hurt. His dad made a fuss, but the hippogriff..." Harry was about to say 'got away', but reworded quickly, "got off."  
  
"That's good," Hermione said with a smile. "No one like rotten old Weasley to force the hippogriff to die." She sounded forceful and bitter and Harry wondered if she hadn't tried to help Hagrid win the hippogriff's trial, as the Hermione from his world had. He determined to come up with a way to ask her about that later.  
  
"Oi!" The four of them whirled around to see Hagrid standing a few feet away from them. "Get to work, will you! You're supposed to be gettin' to know Clover."  
  
All nodding quickly, they turned to the hippogriff who looked slightly disgruntled at having been ignored. "Hope he didn't hear us," Colin muttered.  
  
After having spent a full class period trying to get to know an animal that didn't have much interest in getting to know them, the fifth year Gryffindor students were more than ready to move on to their next class. Colin had commandeered Hermione's attention the moment the class was dismissed and Harry found himself walking back towards the castle with Neville.  
  
"It really is a shame about that hippogriff," Neville said, offhandedly. "I mean, I'm not so fond of the animals myself, but it's a shame that men like Arthur Weasley can get anything they want done like that."  
  
Harry nodded his agreement. "Is he really that bad?"  
  
"Weasley? He's worse. My father - he's an auror, you know." Harry found himself nodding along, though he didn't think he did know. Neville continued, "Well, he knows Weasley. From work and all. Knows the older kid, too, Percy. Says they're both scum. And tells me not to repeat that, but come on, everyone knows. Dad's wary of anything they do. Doesn't trust either of them."  
  
"Does Mr. Weasley work with the aurors?"  
  
"Sort of. Indirectly. He's the head of the Committee for Justice for Wizards Accused of Dark Magic. Used to be the Committee for the Disposal of Dark Wizards, but he had it changed," Neville said with a knowing laugh. "Didn't like the name painting his mates in a bad light, I'd say. Anyway, my dad thinks he uses that position to get his friends off."  
  
"Does he?"  
  
Neville nodded. "Not that I'd know, of course, only being a lowly student. But I'd say he does. He gets Azkaban-bound wizards a get-out-of-hell free card, and brings an axe down on an innocent hippogriff's neck. I ask you, where is the justice?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "It's awful."  
  
"It is," Neville agreed. "Of course, we in Gryffindor had a private funeral for Buckbeak. Invited Hagrid and all."  
  
"A funeral?"  
  
"Sure. As hippogriffs go, he was a good one. Took a nip out of a Weasley. He played sick for a month and missed a Quidditch game. We had to honor the fellow, didn't we?"  
  
Harry laughed. "Of course."  
  
Neville slowed his pace suddenly and let the other Gryffindor students get well ahead of him. Reaching out, he grabbed Harry's arm and stopped the other boy next to him. Once the other students were all inside, he turned to Harry. "We need to talk about something." His sunny demeanor of a moment ago was gone.  
  
"Okay," Harry said nervously.  
  
"I was looking around in your trunk this morning. I know, I know, I shouldn't have been," he defended himself, arms raised in surrender, before Harry could even comment. "I just wanted to have another look at your Firebolt..."  
  
"You can't be looking through my trunk! I have private things there!" Harry was really quite upset. His textbooks that he was supposed to keep hidden were in the trunk. He didn't want to find himself getting into trouble with McGonagall over something like that.  
  
Neville snorted and raised an eyebrow. "I'll say. I found a History of Magic book in there. Looked just like any normal one, on the cover." Harry gulped, knowing that Neville had looked inside. "Funnily, enough, it had a very strange history printed within. I didn't read it all - come on, it is boring old history - but I flipped through a few pages. You were mentioned, d'you know that? I'm sure you do." He smirked. "Anyway. It said something about you defeating a Voldemort. Funny name, if you ask me. And it listed a whole lot of things that anyone in their right mind knows full well never happened. Surely you've noticed, Potter, that many here think you're a bit, shall we say, not in your right mind. I thought maybe they were just being mean and, you know, Slytherin-ish. Till I saw this. Quite a fantasy life, you have there, Harry." He paused and waited for a response.  
  
"A fantasy..." And suddenly Harry realized his escape. Neville thought the book he had found was all some strange fantasy had Harry had concocted for himself. Odd as that made him sound, it was certainly better than Neville finding out the truth.  
  
"I'm right, aren't I?" Neville had a mocking grin on his face.  
  
Harry ducked his head in supposed shame, hoping he was a decent actor, and allowed Neville to think what he wanted.  
  
"So, I suppose now we have to talk about what you're going to do for me so as I don't feel the need to tell everyone about this."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "Are you blackmailing me?"  
  
"Blackmail is such a vulgar term," Neville said. Harry thought the expression on his face made the other boy look like he would be a better fit for Slytherin House than Gryffindor. "But, if that's what you want to call it. Unless you want me to tell..."  
  
Harry most certainly didn't. It was bad enough with just Neville having seen the book.  
  
"So, here's the deal. You let me use your Firebolt for Quidditch games, and I don't tell anyone about your little book."  
  
Harry tried not to let his face break immediately into a smile at this suggested deal, lest Neville decide he needed to make the conditions harsher. "Well, if you promise not to go looking through my trunk ever again? And the broom stays in my trunk in between matches?"  
  
"Deal." Neville grinned. "Come on, we've got to get to Charms now." As he charged up the steps, Neville had returned to being the friendly person he had been in Care of Magical Creatures.  
  
Harry hung back for a moment, thinking. He had been planning to offer the broomstick to Neville anyway, so he had gotten the better side of the deal. Still, he decided, he might ought to talk to Professor McGonagall about doing something better with the books.  
  
He found a large rock sitting in front of his left foot and, remembering his little football game with Colin, gave it a fierce kick. The rock hit the castle wall with a thud and fell abandoned to the ground. Harry couldn't understand Neville; one moment the fellow Gryffindor was a great friend, the next he was as obnoxious and conniving as a Slytherin.  
  
Harry heard the castle door slam shut and looked up. Neville, the last of the other Gryffindors, had disappeared inside. With a shake of his head in frustration, Harry jogged up the steps and through the doors, not wanting to be late for his second class of the day.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from Chapter Nine: 'Return to Hogsmeade'  
  
- In many ways, the man looked just like how he remembered his old Potions professor. He had black hair, pale skin, and a hooked nose. But, in contrast to all that seemed normal to Harry, this Snape looked as though he had actually washed his hair in the recent past and, even more shocking, he was smiling.  
  
- "It's the latest Remus Lupin romance. Lupin," - she stabbed at the author's name with her finger - "Ring any bells? Most famous trashy romance novelist in the wizarding world?"  
  
"So, he's written... lots of these books?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, presumably. How do you think he's gotten famous? Well, the books are part of it, but I suppose there's also who he's dating."  
  
- Weasley pushed between the other two boys and stormed right up to Lily. Harry was surprised and pleased to see that she didn't look intimidated in the least. Weasley, on the other hand, looked enraged by this.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here, you filthy mudblood?" 


	11. Return to Hogsmeade

Chapter Eleven: Return to Hogsmeade  
  
The sun was hot but the air was cold as the entire population of Hogwarts students, year three and higher, invaded the village of Hogsmeade for the second time of the year. The bitter chill of the late-November air had meant that most of the students wrapped up in their warmest cloaks before leaving school, but the sun was now shining so brightly that most had removed them and were carrying them, an extra burden, in their hands.  
  
Harry's own cloak was resting loosely over his left shoulder while Hermione had placed hers neatly into her book-bag as they walked together through the busy street.  
  
"I still say Zonko's," Harry argued, while gesturing with his hand at the joke shop just up the street. "I didn't get to go there last time we were here, and I've heard so much about it."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "It's a waste of time. And money. You know you'll just waste your parents' hard earned galleons on some trick or another that will only get you into trouble. I say we go to the book store." She pointed at the shop directly opposite Zonko's.  
  
Harry tried to let the comment about his parents' hard earned money slide past him, but quickly found himself wondering what exactly he would do for money if he could never find his way home again. Shaking the thought out of his head and determining to enjoy the day, he said, "Come on, Hermione. Have a little fun. It's the weekend. You know you'd love to drop a dungbomb in the Slytherin's toilets."  
  
"No," Hermione disagreed, though her giggling response was not very forceful. "If you wanted to go there, you should have stayed with Colin or Neville."  
  
They came to a stand still in between the two shops. "I didn't want to go off with Neville," Harry complained, remembering all too well his last encounter with the Gryffindor prefect. Realizing he sounded whiney, he brightened his tone and said, "I'd rather stay with you. Is that all right?"  
  
"Of course it's all right," Hermione answered with a large grin. "And I want to go to the bookstore, so come on."  
  
Her tone leaving no room for further argument, she reached over and grabbed Harry's arm. Before he knew what was happening, Harry found himself being dragged in the direction of Hermione's preferred shop and away from his own.  
  
A bell Harry hadn't seen gave a light ding as Hermione pulled him through the door into the bookshop. They were met immediately by a gust of hot air as they made their way into the nearly empty shop. A grizzled old man sat behind the front counter, paying little attention to the cash register hanging open in front of him. A couple of grown witches and wizards were making their ways through the shelves of books, but Harry and Hermione seemed to be the only Hogwarts' students using their weekend day of freedom to shop for books.  
  
"We are," Harry declared as Hermione made her way to the nearest bookshelf, "the only Hogwarts' students in this shop."  
  
Hermione stopped halfway between Harry and the shelf and turned to glare at him. "Then we won't have to worry about being distracted. We can shop in peace."  
  
"What is it you're looking for exactly?"  
  
Hermione sighed and stepped back towards Harry. In a lower voice she said, "I'm looking for books that might help me with my schoolwork. You know, study guides and how-to spell books, and stuff like that. Clearly a combination of textbooks and class notes doesn't do the trick, so I've got to find something else. Is that all right?"  
  
"Sure, fine," Harry agreed. He ran his hands over the spine of a book entitled 'The Adventures of Wilson Willow, Werewolf Wanderer'. "Wait, they have books like that?"  
  
"Huh?" Hermione glanced up from the book she had already snatched off the shelf.  
  
Harry walked over to her. "They have how-to books? 'Transfiguration for Dummies', and stuff like that?" Hermione showed him the cover of the book she was flipping through. It had exactly the title he had just suggested. Harry stifled a laugh and, at her glare, turned serious again. "But, come on Hermione. You're not a dummy."  
  
"My exam scores would disagree with you." She sighed, setting down the book and reaching for another. "I just don't understand it. Why can't I do as well at Hogwarts as I did at my old muggle school?"  
  
"Were you a good student before?"  
  
Hermione didn't look up from the book. "Top of the class." Harry smiled to himself as she continued. "I figured it'd be just the same when I got here. I had read all of the textbooks before I even got on the Hogwarts Express. Memorized good bits of them, too. I was eager, ready to go, when we started classes..." She was still looking down at the book and Harry wasn't even certain she was aware of his presence as she reminisced. "We had Potions first thing. Professor Riddle asked if anyone knew what a bezoar was. My hand shot into the air and he called on me. And I just went blank. It's been the same ever since."  
  
Harry didn't know how to respond to this. He walked closer to her, trying to think of something to say. "Hermione..."  
  
She looked back up at him and Harry was surprised to see that she didn't look at all upset. "So, that's why I'm here. I'm not going to be the butt of Malfoy and Weasley's jokes forever."  
  
"That's... good."  
  
"Oh, you can go on, Harry. I know you don't need to look at this stuff. I think there's a Quidditch section near the back." She indicated a back wall.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I am, in fact, capable of looking at books by myself, you know. It's a skill I mastered long before coming to Hogwarts." Harry nodded and with a light wave of his hand, made his way towards the supposed Quidditch section.  
  
Hermione had been right. The back wall of the shop was packed full of Quidditch books. It seemed he had the option of reading about every possible topic, from broomstick comfort design to the winner of the Quidditch World Cup in the year 988. Harry chose a bright green book bearing the title 'The Recent History of England's Quidditch League' and, not finding anywhere to sit, leaned back on the shelf opposite.  
  
Settling his weight comfortably and making sure the shelf wouldn't topple, Harry flipped the book open. With a gasp, he studied the page he found in front of him. Completely by chance, he had opened to picture of a man who could only be James Potter. As the chaser in the picture caught the Quaffle and made his way to the goal, Harry glanced at the caption below the image and read that it was, indeed, his would-be father. Harry watched the picture, enthralled, as Potter executed a few more daring moves and then returned to attempting to score a goal.  
  
Harry didn't know how much time had passed when suddenly he was distracted by the sound of gleeful laughter from outside. He ripped his eyes away from the book just in time to see two identical redheads running away from a group of disgruntled looking Hufflepuff girls.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry looked back at the book. His father was just finishing a loop-de-loop and disappeared out of the picture. With a sigh, he flipped the page and had to do a double take at what he saw.  
  
Harry pulled his glasses off, wiped them to make sure they were clean, and jammed them back onto his face. Sure he was seeing correctly now, Harry read the caption to himself, "Severus Snape." In many ways, the man in the picture looked just like how he remembered his old Potions professor. He had black hair, pale skin, and a hooked nose. But, in contrast to all that seemed normal to Harry, this Snape looked as though he had actually washed his hair in the recent past and, even more shocking, he was smiling.  
  
Dumbfounded, Harry turned back a page, hoping to get another glimpse of his father, but the Quidditch player had not yet chosen to return to the frame. After a moments thought, Harry returned the book to its shelf and turned around.  
  
Hermione was exactly where she had been when he left her, nose in a book. Harry began to make his way back towards her, slowly, glancing at other books along the way. Harry was surprised to find himself about to pick up a copy of Hogwarts, a History, when a new release table near the entrance caught his eye. He hadn't seen it when they had come in, but now made his way quickly over to it.  
  
Harry's eyes stopped on a book sitting directly under the New Release sign. Another glance around the table would have told him that copies of this one book took up most of the table space, but he was focused on the one he had seen first. The book's title didn't grab his attention, nor did the brightly colored cover picture. It was the author's name, written impressively across the bottom, that Harry had noticed, and now read aloud to himself, "Remus J. Lupin."  
  
Unlike most of the books in the shop, this one was a lightweight paperback and looked to have been mass-produced. Harry grabbed the top copy in his hand and ran his fingers lightly over the name. He flipped the book open to its first page.  
  
"Oh, don't tell me you actually read that rubbish."  
  
Harry jerked his eyes from the page and saw Hermione standing next to him, a bag of newly purchased books clutched in her hand. At his blank expression, she pointed to the book clutched in his hand.  
  
"Oh, no," Harry denied it. "I don't read this. I just... I think I've heard of the author."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course you have."  
  
"Of course I have?"  
  
"It's the latest Remus Lupin romance. Lupin," - she stabbed at the author's name with her finger - "Ring any bells? Most famous trashy romance novelist in the wizarding world?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh... right."  
  
"I've never read any of his books, of course. But from what I hear, it's worse than most of the garbage my mother reads. And that's saying something."  
  
"So, he's written... lots of these books?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, presumably. How do you think he's gotten famous? Well, the books are part of it, but I suppose there's also who he's dating."  
  
Harry was fairly certain he had had quite enough shocks for one day, but decided to ask anyway. "Who is he dating?"  
  
Hermione looked at him as if he had grown an extra head. "Are you from another world? Don't you keep up with any gossip?" She studied Harry's genuinely confused expression for a moment. "All right. He's dating that Quidditch player, Potter."  
  
"Potter?" Harry asked, his brow wrinkled in thought. The only Potter he had heard of was his father.  
  
"Yeah, you know. The one you look so much like. James Potter. Who plays for the Cannons." Hermione failed to notice that Harry had gone pale as she continued talking. "Honestly, I don't understand how I know more about this stuff than you do."  
  
The shop door opened and closed behind the pair as Harry looked wide-eyed at the book he was holding in his hand.  
  
"Lupin is dating Potter? James Potter?" Harry struggled to get the words out of his mouth.  
  
Hermione had a queer expression on her face, as though she had never seen anyone quite as odd as him. "Well, unless they've broken up since the last Daily Prophet gossip columns."  
  
"Well, well, well," a scathing voice drawled. Harry and Hermione whirled around to see Draco Malfoy, arms crossed menacingly, standing behind them. "Looks like little Potter's a homophobe." Ron Weasley was hovering behind his friend, looking equally foul tempered.  
  
"I am not!" Harry exclaimed, dropping the book on the table and getting his hands free in case they were needed for a fight.  
  
"Oh no?" Weasley asked, stepping forward. "'Lupin is dating Potter?'" he imitated Harry in a high-pitched voice. "Sounds pretty disapproving to me."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione scoot behind him and out of the way of their enemies. Harry stood as tall as he could, trying to look as menacing as the two Slytherins did. "I would have thought you two would've been homophobic, Weasley."  
  
"Me?" Weasley sounded truly shocked. "Why should I care what they want to get up to? It's not my cup of tea, personally, but so long as they're both of pure blood, they can do whatever they like. You have a problem with that, Potter?"  
  
"I have a problem with you, Weasley."  
  
"Ooh, now I'm scared." Weasley and Malfoy both laughed. Hermione moved to scoot around the table from the three boys.  
  
"Look, Ron," Malfoy said with a laugh, "the mudblood's running from us." Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared wide-eyed at them. Harry moved to defend her, but before he could say anything, Malfoy continued, "That's right, you better be scared. I'd think all the mudbloods ought to be shaking in their shoes, after what happened to that poor Squib's rat."  
  
Harry growled. "Oh, I'm sure the two of you are really sorry over what happened to the rat."  
  
Weasley smirked at this comment, but Malfoy looked angry. "What are you insinuating, Potter?"  
  
"I think you know, Malfoy."  
  
Before Harry had even a moment's notice to prepare himself, Malfoy lunged at him and took hold of the neck of his robes. Harry made to shove him away as he heard Hermione squeal from behind him. Weasley was still standing off to the side, smirking happily. Harry was about to punch Malfoy in the mouth when he was suddenly interrupted.  
  
"Stop it, both of you!"  
  
Harry let his arm fall limply to his side as Malfoy let go of his grip on his robes. They both turned to see Lily Black standing behind Hermione, who looked much more confidant now that she had an adult on her side.  
  
Harry immediately felt repentant and was surprised to see Malfoy looking somewhat the same. Weasley, it seemed, was also surprised at his friend's reaction. He pushed between the other two boys and stormed right up to Lily. Harry was surprised and pleased to see that she didn't look intimidated in the least. Weasley, on the other hand, looked enraged by this.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here, you filthy mudblood?"  
  
Harry gasped in shock. He heard Hermione do the same. Malfoy, on the other hand, was grinning smugly.  
  
Lily opened her mouth to respond, but it was her husband's voice that got there first.  
  
"How dare you use such language!" Professor Black's voice boomed out at them. He looked far more menacing than either Weasley or Malfoy had. Harry was intimidated, even though he wasn't the one facing the wrath. "That is not a word I want to hear out of your mouth ever, ever again. And that goes for all of you!" He directed a glare at all four of the students. Hermione seemed to be trembling. "And if I ever hear you use such a word towards my wife again..."  
  
"You'll do what?" Weasley interrupted saucily.  
  
Black's eyes narrowed. "Are you aware, Mr. Weasley, that you can lose house points while on a Hogsmeade visit?" Weasley opened his mouth to respond, but Black beat him to it. "That'll be 50 points from Slytherin. Each." This time Harry heard Malfoy gasp in shock. "And I suggest the both of you return to Hogwarts immediately, before I find occasion to remove more points."  
  
Malfoy's mouth was hanging open in shock, but Weasley was scowling in anger. He looked as though he was contemplating saying something more. Harry found himself wishing he would.  
  
Finally, after a good minute's silence, Weasley whirled around and stormed out the door. Malfoy followed behind him a moment later, after treating the rest of them to a scowl of his own.  
  
Harry watched them until they disappeared out of sight. He turned and saw that Hermione was leaning on the table and appeared to be breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"  
  
She glanced up at him. "Yeah, just, you know..."  
  
"Exhilaration?" he supplied with a smile.  
  
"Sure." She smiled and they both turned to look at their professor. He was standing close to his wife, his hand on her arm, a pensive expression on his face.  
  
"Really, Sirius," she muttered to him. "That wasn't necessary."  
  
Black scowled. "You think I'm going to let those two little rats get away with calling you something like that?"  
  
"Those 'rats' are your students. And look who their fathers are. You're going to create enemies you don't want, Sirius." It was Lily's turn to look pensive.  
  
Black scoffed at this. "Why do I care if they're my enemies? It's not like I'm trying to get a Ministry job. Anyway, anyone who calls you mudblood is my enemy, no questions asked."  
  
"It wouldn't hurt you to show some common sense, Sirius. There might be a time in the future when you don't want two top Ministry workers against you. That's all I'm saying."  
  
"I stick up for you, and this is the thanks I get..." he marveled at her apparent unappreciative attitude.  
  
Harry smiled and decided to speak up. "I think it was very cool what you did, Professor."  
  
Black and Lily looked over at the two students. The expression on Black's face made it clear he had forgotten that they were not alone.  
  
"I thought so, too," Hermione added softly.  
  
"Well, thank you. Both of you." Black smiled at his students. "It's nice to know where my true fans are." Lily rolled her eyes and he swung his arm around her shoulder. "Three Broomsticks anyone? Butterbeers all around?"  
  
Lily had a teasing look in her eyes. "Are you treating?"  
  
Black's eyes narrowed. "What difference does it make to you? Our money comes from the same Gringotts account!"  
  
Lily smiled, patting his arm affectionately. "It's the principle of the matter, dear." Black huffed with annoyance and Lily stretched up on her toes to give him a quick kiss. Harry found himself blushing as his professor wrapped his arms around his would-be mother. He glanced at Hermione and saw that she was smiling dreamily at the pair.  
  
Black took hold of Lily's hand and led her gallantly from the bookshop. With a laugh, Harry and Hermione followed behind, into the bright daylight of the Hogsmeade street.  
  
Fred and George Symmons dashed by once again, identical looks of devious plotting on their faces, as the group of four made its way down the street and into the Three Broomsticks. Lily, Harry, and Hermione seated themselves together in a booth towards the front as Sirius made his way towards the counter to order the promised butterbeers.  
  
It was not at all crowded and he was back in moments, carrying three bottles of butterbeer. At his side was the girl Harry recognized as his daughter, Bonnie, holding two more bottles. Black slid into the seat next to his wife and made room on the edge for Bonnie. Once everyone was seated, the drinks were handed around.  
  
"So," Bonnie began with a grin aimed at Harry, "I hear there was some excitement. Did you get to kick any Slytherin..." She trailed off at a warning glare from her mother.  
  
"Bonnie..." Lily began.  
  
"Right. So we won't talk about beating up on evil-wizards-in-training. Though it would be so much fun." Bonnie grinned again and took a sip from her butterbeer. "Are your parents so annoying like this? Chastising you for discriminating against evil little Slytherin-esque brats?"  
  
Black rolled his eyes. "Bonnie has, since last year, built up an overriding hatred for all things Slytherin. Related directly to an embarrassing Quidditch loss, I believe?"  
  
Bonnie snorted with disgust at the memory and went back to drinking her butterbeer. Lily, on the other hand, had clearly found a topic for beginning the conversation. She turned to Harry and Hermione. "Speaking of your parents, what do they do?"  
  
Harry looked reluctant to answer, so Hermione began. "Mine are dentists. Muggle dentists, of course."  
  
"And you, Harry?" Lily said with a nod.  
  
"Oh..." Harry stalled. "Well. The thing is..." He couldn't think of any good thing to say that wouldn't lead to more explaining than he really wanted to get into.  
  
"Maybe his parents don't work," Bonnie suggested cheekily. "Maybe he's a bum on the streets."  
  
Harry flushed. "That's not true! They don't... I don't... I live with my aunt and uncle. Or," he paused for a second, thinking, "I did. I don't know anymore. I really don't want to talk about it."  
  
"All right." Lily looked a bit perplexed at his reaction, but clearly saw fit not to press the subject further. The five of them sat silently for a bit, the only noise being the occasional slurp of butterbeer. No one seemed to know what to say to Harry, but Lily was studying the boy's countenance as he studied the tabletop in front of him. Finally, the silence seemed to have become too much for her. "Do you know, Harry, you look just like James Potter." Before the words were even fully out of her mouth, he had whipped his head up to look at her. "I'm sure you must have heard that a million times before, but it really is true."  
  
"Mum's seen James Potter, up close and personal," Bonnie said. She sounded a bit awestruck. "They were partners in Potions class, all those years ago."  
  
"And I remember just what a love affair that was," Black commented with a snort. He set his now-empty butterbeer bottle on the table in front of him and dropped his arm lazily over the back of the seat behind his wife.  
  
Lily visibly shuddered at the memory. "I can't say it was a pleasant experience, no."  
  
"But, Mum," Bonnie cajoled, "he was James Potter. He's so..."  
  
"If you say dreamy," Black interrupted his daughter, "you're automatically written out of my will." Bonnie clamped her mouth shut immediately.  
  
Hermione, who had been virtually silent ever since leaving the bookstore, finally spoke up. "At least he wasn't a Slytherin. That's a plus for him right there."  
  
"Now, now," Black chastised gently. "We can't blindly hold people's houses against them like that."  
  
Lily snorted in a manner Harry thought most unladylike. Apparently, Bonnie thought so, too, as she burst out laughing. Black, on the other hand, favored his wife with a glare. "What? I just don't think you have any room to talk, after your performance in the bookshop."  
  
"That had absolutely nothing to do with their being in Slytherin. Had Harry here, for example, called you... well, called you what those boys did, I'd have reacted in just the same manner."  
  
Lily shook her head. "Ah, but you see, you hate Gryffindors as much as you hate Slytherins. Don't play Mr. Unbiased Professor in front of me, Sirius."  
  
"Fine. But can I play Mr. Unbiased Professor in front of the students at least?" He raised an eyebrow imploringly and nodded towards Harry and Hermione. Lily glanced over at the two of them and immediately looked apologetic. "Anyway, how can I hate Gryffindors? I married one!" He smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss.  
  
Bonnie, squished into the seat with her parents, huffed impatiently. "We're in public!"  
  
Black gave his daughter a teasing smile. "Well, excuse me, Miss Black."  
  
"Anyway," Bonnie began, with a smile across the table Harry, "we were talking about Harry's double. Since we've established that you don't hate Gryffindors, can we get back to that?" Black and Lily both rolled their eyes, but appeared willing to humor their daughter. "He's in Quidditch magazines at least once a month. I have subscriptions to all the major ones. Quidditch Weekly..."  
  
"Just to see pictures of James?" Hermione asked, surprised.  
  
Bonnie grinned. "Well, there's Severus, too, of course." Black groaned and Bonnie's grin widened.  
  
"He is pretty cute," Hermione admitted.  
  
Harry's eyes widened. It had been bad enough to learn that Parvati and Padma found Snape attractive. Now Hermione, too? He was beginning to lose faith in his new friends. "Severus Snape? Isn't he..."  
  
"What?" Bonnie asked.  
  
"A, you know, 'slimy Slytherin'?"  
  
Bonnie gasped in shock. "Blasphemy! How dare you utter such a thing about Severus!"  
  
"What Bonnie means to say," Lily interceded, "is that Severus, and James as well, were both in Gryffindor at Hogwarts. In my year, in fact, meaning I had to share classes with them for seven years."  
  
"Slytherin!" Bonnie was muttering under her breath. "How could he... Slytherin!" Harry was amused to see that she reacted as if he had suggested that she, herself, was a member of that house. He decided at that moment that he and Bonnie would get along just fine.  
  
Hermione looked like a question was forming in her head. Finally, she spoke. "Remus Lupin was friends with them back then, too, right?"  
  
"He was," Lily confirmed. "A pack of trouble-makers, those three were. Though I did generally get along with Remus better than the other two. He had a brain in his head, at the very least."  
  
"I love his books!" Bonnie gushed.  
  
Black rolled his eyes. "That's my daughter for you. If it's wizarding pop culture, she loves it!"  
  
"That's not true. I just like things that involve cute men," she clarified. "It's too bad about him and James, though."  
  
"Why too bad?" Harry asked.  
  
Bonnie grinned again. "Because, it means neither of them will be interested in me."  
  
Black sighed once again and Harry heard him mutter, "Oh dear Merlin." Lily reached out and ran a comforting hand along his arm.  
  
"You might have a chance with one of them, though, Harry," Bonnie suggested, a devilish gleam in her eye.  
  
Harry choked on the sip of butterbeer he had just taken. He wiped his mouth clean and set the bottle down in front of him. "I'm not... I mean..."  
  
"Don't swing that way? Okay." Bonnie smirked. "Better for me, then, I guess." Harry thought that, if he had still been drinking his butterbeer, he might have choked on it again. "I saw you checking me out, you know. Last Hogsmeade visit."  
  
Mutterings that sounded distinctly like, "Should have locked her in the dungeon," were coming from Black's direction.  
  
Hermione was grinning. "We'll, I'm sure you'll have loads in common. Harry's a fan of Lupin's books, too. He was looking at them in the shop."  
  
"I am not... I've never read them," Harry protested.  
  
"Oh, right." Hermione nodded. "But you said something about knowing him."  
  
This time it was Bonnie's turn to choke on her butterbeer. "You know Remus Lupin?" she exclaimed.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I didn't say I knew him. I said I had heard of him."  
  
"Of course you have," Bonnie said. "He's only the most famous writer in the wizarding world."  
  
"Him and Gilderoy Lockhart," Hermione amended.  
  
Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but her father beat her to it. "If I hear one word about how dreamy Gilderoy Lockhart is, so help me..."  
  
"You know what," Lily interrupted, looking at her watch. "It's about time for you lot to be heading back to Hogwarts. Why don't you get a move on before you give your dear Transfiguration professor a heart attack, hmm?"  
  
As if on cue, the wall clock chimed.  
  
"I guess we'd better," Harry conceded, sliding out of his seat. He took one last sip of his butterbeer as Hermione and Bonnie stood up, as well.  
  
"Bye Mum, see you, Dad," Bonnie said cheerily, giving each of her parents a kiss on the cheek.  
  
The three students started off together. As soon as they were back out in the bright daylight, Bonnie rolled her eyes.  
  
"Honestly, what does he take me for?"  
  
Harry was confused. "Who?"  
  
"My father. 'If I hear one word about how dreamy Gilderoy Lockhart is...'" she mimicked. "As if I could ever like a fraud like that. Anyway, his hair's too perfect. I need a man with a messy head of hair. It signifies wildness inside. And I like a wild man." Bonnie smirked at Harry and Hermione, who both looked shocked. "Oh, for Merlin's sake. You Gryffindors are more prudish than my parents. Come on, we'll be late."  
  
With that, she started off quickly down the road and towards the school. After exchanging a bewildered glance, Harry and Hermione followed.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Scenes from the next chapter, 'The Second Attack'  
  
- "Dead... she's dead..." he muttered after a moment. Pettigrew got to his feet again and came suddenly at Harry. "I heard a girl screaming... was it her?" Harry shook his head no, but Pettigrew took no notice. "What'd you do, boy? Did you kill her?"  
  
- "Well, do you know if... I mean... is she pure blood or..."  
  
"Muggle," Bonnie whimpered. "Her parents are Muggles."  
  
"What's that got to do with anything?" Pettigrew snapped.  
  
Black nodded slowly. "The first victim was a Squib's pet. The second, a Muggle born student..."  
  
"Enemies of the heir beware..." Harry muttered. 


	12. The Second Attack

Authors Notes: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've been having trouble with chapter thirteen, and I didn't like to post this before I got that one done, but now I've nearly finished it, so here's this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Also, I've started a new writing journal for myself, the link to which is in my profile , where you'll be able to find all of my writings. Most likely, things will be posted there before other places, so anyone with a livejournal, feel free to read my stuff there, as well. I should also be better able to respond to reviews that way.

Chapter Twelve: 'The Second Attack'

"Just concentrate on it Harry," Professor Black instructed from the opposite side of the desk. Harry frowned at the small rat lounging peacefully on the desk in front of him. "If your mind's on the Quidditch match that I know you'd rather be at, you'll have no hope on this Transfiguration..."

Harry huffed impatiently and pointed his wand again at the rat. When Black had demonstrated it, the rat had changed so easily into a hamster that Harry had thought it might be simple. Having spent forty-five minutes at it now, though, and effecting very little change, Harry was not surprised that the rat had given up on being frightened by his wand.

Harry gave it another try. The rat before him quivered for a moment and he began to hope it had finally worked, but as quick as it had begun, it was over and the rat was scurrying along the desk.

Professor Black grabbed hold of its tail and set it back in front of Harry.

Harry sighed. "Its just seems pointless." Black raised an eyebrow and Harry continued, "I mean, why does this rat need to be a hamster? Who's to say he isn't perfectly happy being a rat? And why should I be the one to have to change him?"

Black laughed. "I suppose he may well be perfectly happy as a rat. And in the end, I'll return him to that form. But the point is, Harry, that you have to start small. This is a step along the road to more advanced animal and human Transfigurations. Someday, when you'll be needing to Transfigure something a good deal more complicated, you'll be thankful for this." Harry wrinkled his brow. "I suppose that's a very typical adult sort of answer, isn't it?" Black chuckled when Harry grinned his agreement. "God, when did I become one of those? Typical adult, I mean. Anyway, give it one more try, and then I'll let you head off to the match."

Raising his wand again, Harry nodded quickly, happy to be almost out of there. He pushed all thought of the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match from his mind and pointed his wand directly at the rat. Putting all his effort into the Transfiguration he was attempting, Harry gave a quick flick of his wrist. He closed his eyes for a second, expecting for nothing to have happened, and was met with soft laughter.

"Well done," Professor Black was saying, and Harry opened his eyes again. In front of him was the rat, still looking very much like a rat, but now missing its tail. "It's certainly a start, anyway, isn't it?"

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but was willing to accept the praise and move on. The rat seemed bewildered by the loss of the tail. Its body was twisted and folded almost double as it tried to bite at the spot where the tail had been attached.

"Not to sound too much like Hermione," Harry began, "but that does seem to be bordering on cruelty to animals, doesn't it?"

Black gave a bark of laughter. "Perhaps." And with a wave of his wand, the rat was whole again. "Well, I won't go back on my word. You're free to..."

But the office door banging open interrupted him. Harry looked up from stuffing a piece of parchment covered with notes into his pocket to see Bonnie Black, red hair tousled behind her, standing in the doorway.

"Dad..." she began.

Professor Black narrowed his eyes at her. She rolled her eyes back at him, not intimidated.

"Oh come on," she moaned. "It's not like there's a bunch of students here. Surely I don't have to call you Professor all the time?" Eyes still narrowed, Black seemed to consider this. After a moment, he relented and she grinned. "All right then, _Dad_. I was wondering if you were coming to the match?"

Black got up from behind his desk. As he spoke, he began pulling a stack of parchment from one of the drawers. It looked to Harry as though they had exams written on them. "I will not be attending, no. I have far too much grading to do. I was, however, going to walk with Harry down to the stadium, but as you are here, you can do it." He paused and seemed to consider his daughter. "Speaking of which, why are you here on your own? I believe it was made abundantly clear to you all that moving about the castle alone was forbidden?"

Bonnie shuffled her feet nervously but otherwise didn't look bothered. "Oh, well, you know. Nothing's happened since that rat. And it was just a rat, so I figured..."

"You figured wrong," Black cut her off, anger in his eyes. "Do you think we set these rules for no reason, Bonnie?"

Bonnie looked nervous, and Harry could tell nervousness wasn't something she was used to feeling. He, too, found himself surprised at the sudden anger Professor Black was displaying.

"No, no, of course not," Bonnie began meekly. "I mean..."

Professor Black sat back down. He motioned to the two chairs opposite his desk and Harry and Bonnie slid into them. "Professor McGonagall, the others professors, and myself, we try to be reasonable. We understand that you are children." Bonnie seemed to want to object to being called a child, but said nothing. "We understand that you want to have fun, but when we do set a rule, we expect it to be obeyed. It's for your own good. For your safety. Something happened to Mr. Pettigrew's rat. Something killed it, and until we can be absolutely certain that whatever that was is gone, every student at this school is at risk." Harry looked sympathetically at the professor, remembering his desire to close the school at once. "Look, I don't mean to be harsh. But if we are not careful, it'll be a dead student next. Even one of you two."

Harry glanced at Bonnie. She looked chastened. "Dad, I'm... I'm sorry..."

Tension hung in the air between them and Harry began to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Look, um, Professor..." Black looked over at him. "The match should be starting... can we..."

Black nodded. "Go on. Together. And, Bonnie, that'll be five points from Ravenclaw."

The redhead didn't protest. She didn't even look upset at the loss of points, she simply got up from her chair and headed towards the door. With a half smile at Professor Black, Harry got up and followed her. They slipped into the hallway together and walked a few paces. Suddenly, Bonnie's demeanor changed. She was back to being carefree. "Honestly," she muttered, glancing back at her father's door. "It was just a dead rat. Probably some stupid prank."

Harry was surprised. "So you don't think it's something to worry about?"

"No, do you?" Bonnie glanced over at him as they turned a corner.

"Well, at my old school," Harry began, not sure how to explain what had happened without mentioning that his old school was simply a different version of this one. "There were... similar... things. Attacks on students and all."

"Did anyone die?"

Harry shook his head. "Well, no."

"See, then? Nothing to worry about." Harry started down the path he normally took to the Quidditch pitch, but Bonnie grabbed hold of his sleeve and pulled him back.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "If we have to stay together, we're at least going to take the short cut." Harry couldn't think of any shortcut, and he realized his confusion must have shown on his face as Bonnie pointed down a nearby hallway. "That hall connects up to another one that'll dump you out right by the pitch. And it's easy access from the Ravenclaw common room, so we always go that way, but pretty much no one else ever does."

Harry had never heard of any such shortcut, but decided to take her word for it. He knew that Bonnie wanted to get to the match just as much as he did, so he followed her. Sure enough, the hallway they had started down ran into another fairly soon and, though he'd never been down it, Harry was fairly certain they were headed in the right direction.

Conversation between them lulled. Harry realized that he knew almost nothing about the girl and couldn't think of a topic to begin with, so he just watched her silently. Unfortunately, with nothing to do but think, his thoughts drifted to his mother, the woman this girl looked so much like.

For the second time in a short while, Harry began to feel uncomfortable. Being alone with Bonnie reminded him of the meeting he had had with Lily Black. Save his encounters with dementors, it had been the only time in his memory that he had heard his mother's voice, and he knew he had messed it up royally. Still, he figured, there probably wasn't an etiquette guide to follow for meeting the alternate version of your dead mother.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts after a few minutes by a distinct, but distant, rumbling of voices that he knew had to be coming from the Quidditch stadium. Sure enough, Bonnie informed him that they were almost there.

They turned another corner in silence, Harry focusing his attention away from Bonnie and onto a portrait of a sleeping wizard, when she stopped suddenly beside him and grabbed for his arm. Harry stopped next to her, almost tripping over his feet.

"What's that?" she whispered, for the first time sounding a bit worried.

She pointed down the hallway and Harry turned his gaze to follow her finger. Further down, about fifty yards away, was what appeared to be a large black lump lying on the floor. He squinted and wiped at some dirt on his glasses, hoping to get a better view.

"I... I don't know," Harry stammered. "Could be a..." And then he paused, not knowing what it could be. Bonnie seemed frozen in place, so Harry took charge. "Well, come on, we'll never be able to tell from here."

Leaving her behind him, Harry strode down the hallway. As he got closer, he thought it looked distinctly like a Hogwarts uniform. It only took him another second to realize that it was not lying flat, so it must have a body inside it. He broke into a light run. As he neared the body, he could hear Bonnie's feet not far behind.

It was, indeed, a body. Harry dropped to his knees beside it. It appeared to be a girl, judging by the long, black hair, but she was lying face down. He paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Then, gathering his courage, he took hold of her shoulder and pulled her slowly onto her back.

What he saw made all the blood drain from Harry's face. It was all he could do not to scream for, once he got her all the way onto her back, Harry found himself looking into the sightless eyes of Cho Chang.

She was staring up at the ceiling blankly, her mouth frozen in an 'o' of surprise. One hand was stuck out to the side and the other in front of her. His heart racing, Harry grabbed her wrist between his fingers and felt for a pulse. He could find none, and what he feared was confirmed: Cho Chang was not petrified. She was dead.

All Harry could hear was the sound of Bonnie's footsteps, approaching slowly now. The sounds of the Quidditch match, so distinct before, seemed to have disappeared completely. Then, all of a sudden, the engulfing silence was broken by a piercing scream. Though he knew full well who had screamed, Harry glanced backwards anyway. Bonnie was standing just over his shoulder, her blue eyes wide in shock and her face every bit as pale as he was sure his was. He turned fully around and started to reach a trembling hand towards her, but before it could make contact, she was gone.

Bonnie's footsteps pounded down the corridor, heading back in the direction they had come from. Within seconds, she disappeared from sight, but Harry could vaguely hear footsteps coming from another direction. He stumbled to his feet and stepped shakily away from the body.

His heart was still racing and Harry realized suddenly that he was breathing heavily. Slowly, he stepped towards the opposite wall and leaned back against it. He tried for a few moments to slow his breathing, but the efforts were in vain.

The second set of footsteps continued to come closer and suddenly Peter Pettigrew appeared, panting as well, from behind a tapestry.

"I heard screaming..." he began, but stopped abruptly. The caretaker's eyes darted from Cho's dead body to Harry, and back again. He seemed to be mouthing wordlessly as he, like Harry had done, dropped to his knees beside her. Also as Harry had done, he took hold of her wrist and began to look for a pulse, but Harry didn't need Pettigrew's confirmation to know that there would not be one. "Dead... she's dead..." he muttered after a moment. Pettigrew got to his feet again and came suddenly at Harry. "I heard a girl screaming... was it her?" Harry shook his head no, but Pettigrew took no notice. "What'd you do, boy? Did you kill her?" Harry shook his head again, but couldn't force words from his mouth. Pettigrew edged closer, staring Harry directly in the eye.

"Peter!" another voice boomed down the hallway.

Harry looked up and was relieved to see Professor Black running towards them, Bonnie at his heels.

Bonnie got another close look at the body and screamed again. Harry really wished she wouldn't, because it made him realize that his head was starting to hurt, but Black did nothing to stop her. Instead, he made his way over to the body and became the third person in a row to check that she was really dead.

Once he was assured of that fact, he turned solemnly to Harry and Peter. Pettigrew, to Harry's relief, took a few small steps backwards. Bonnie stopped screaming and looked to her father for answers. Unfortunately, Harry realized, it was more than obvious that the professor did not have any.

Professor Black took a step towards Harry, and Pettigrew backed further away. Bonnie edged nearer to Cho, but couldn't seem to bring herself to actually look at the body. Harry noticed she had started to cry.

Suddenly, Pettigrew pointed a shaky finger at Harry. "This boy, Professor. He killed her. I heard screaming."

Harry looked horrified. He turned to Professor Black and began to deny it, but Black silenced him with a shake of his head. "It was Bonnie's screams you heard, Peter. Miss Chang has been dead too long. Anyway, Mr. Potter was with me until just a few minutes ago. An extra study session for Transfiguration."

Bonnie whimpered and edged closer to Cho's body. Professor Black reached out a hand to stop her, but she twisted away from him and fell to her knees beside the girl. Her tears had turned into full-fledged sobbing as she leaned over the body.

Black made to go comfort his daughter, but before he had taken a step, Pettigrew spoke again, in a far nastier voice than before. "It's convenient, isn't it? Every time something happens, and the boy's with you. This boy who just _magically_ showed up here one day..." Harry felt his temper flare up and could see Professor Black bristle. His eyes narrowed. "This girl looks just the same as my Wormtail did," Pettigrew growled.

"Wormtail?" Harry asked, surprised.

Pettigrew narrowed his beady eyes at him. "My rat!"

"Are you saying Cho looks like a rat?" Bonnie choked out.

No one said anything for a moment. All Harry could hear were Bonnie's sobs and Pettigrew's rasping breath, still just inches away. Harry turned to look at Professor Black; he seemed to be trying to decide whom to address first. Finally, after a couple more moments passed in relative quiet, Black turned to his daughter. "Bonnie, what Mr. Pettigrew is trying to say, I'm sure, is that it appears... it appears that Miss Chang was killed by the same thing that killed his rat."

"Wormtail! His name was Wormtail!" Pettigrew seethed. Harry tried to take a step backwards, but the wall was right behind him. "And I just think it's a little strange that this boy..." – he jabbed a finger at Harry- "... is always around for these deaths."

But Harry didn't even think about protesting; his mind was on something else as Black turned on Pettigrew. "Peter, that is quite enough! I can assure you that Harry has no more killed anyone than I have!"

Pettigrew began to tremble under Black's harsh glare, but Harry barely took notice as he slipped across the hallway and sank to the floor next to Cho's body. He willed himself not to look at it, and instead turned to Bonnie. "You were friends with her?"

Bonnie nodded meekly. Harry could feel the sudden presence of the two adults right behind him.

"Well, do you know if... I mean... is she pure blood or..."

"Muggle," Bonnie whimpered. "Her parents are Muggles."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Pettigrew snapped. Harry glanced up at the adults and knew instantly that Professor Black was beginning to make the same connection he just had.

Black nodded slowly. "The first victim was a Squib's pet. The second, a Muggle born student..."

"Enemies of the heir beware..." Harry muttered. Bonnie trembled suddenly. He got the idea that she understood now, too.

Pettigrew, it seemed, had not caught on. He had sunk back behind Professor Black and appeared to be muttering to himself. Harry ignored him and looked at his professor. "I told Minerva," Black began. "Not safe... none of the Muggle borns are safe."

Bonnie gasped and rose shakily to her feet. "But... but what about Mum?"

"Don't be absurd, Bonnie," Professor Black snapped. "Your mother is perfectly safe – she's not at this school!" Bonnie nodded quickly and stepped meekly backwards. Harry, too, felt shocked by Black's harshness. After a moment, he glanced at them and took in the surprise on both their faces. "I'm sorry, sorry. Don't need to be taking this out on either of you." He paused for a moment and then whirled around to face Pettigrew. "Peter! Go now and get the Headmistress from the Quidditch match. I'll be taking them to my office." He gestured vaguely at Harry, Bonnie, and Cho's body. Pettigrew snapped into action almost immediately and disappeared down the path that Harry and Bonnie had planned to take.

Pettigrew's steps faded away and the hall was silent again. Even Bonnie's tears seemed to have subsided. Professor Black simply watched the students for a moment. He appeared to be collecting his thoughts. Then, out of nowhere, he pulled his wand. Harry couldn't hear the spell that he muttered, but in seconds Cho's body was floating next to him.

"Come along," he commanded and started down the hall. Harry and Bonnie glanced at each other and then hurried to follow.

To be continued...

Scenes from Chapter Thirteen:

- Headmistress McGonagall, Harry decided, looked quite suddenly a good deal older than she ever had before, in this world or his own. Her eyes were wide, and her pale skin contrasted sharply with the deep purple robes she wore. Her right hand trembled as she used it to brace herself against the doorway as her eyes took in the sight that awaited her inside her Deputy's office.

"It is true, then, Sirius?"

Harry turned back to McGonagall, surprised to hear her voice sounding just as fragile and weary as she looked.

- "Mr. Potter, I must ask: is this what happened last time?"

"No one died last time," Harry said quietly.

At the same moment, Bonnie squawked out, "What do you mean, _last time_?"

- Then, unwillingly, Harry laughed to himself, because while the thought of Sirius made him feel happier, the thought of the Dursleys made him ever more determined to stay in this world and face whatever might be coming.

Not being privy to his thoughts, Bonnie clearly didn't find his laughter appropriate. She stopped in her tracks and glared at him, not bothering now to wipe the tears from her eyes.


End file.
